


The Strangest Harem Fic Evah, Act One: Love Them

by FabFuta1234



Series: The Strangest Harem Fic Evah [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Aliens, Autism, Autistic DTL, Autistic Doug Magnum, Bisexual Female Character, Casual references to menstruation, Child Abuse, Everyone having sex is 18+ no matter what the dialogue/narration says, Explicit Consent, F/F, F/M, Foot Fetish, Footjobs, Futanari, Humor, Intersex Female Character, Lesbian Character, Memes, Nail Polish, Pansexual Female Character, Parody, Plot With Porn, Polyamory, Reality Warping, Suicide Attempts, The authoress does not condone pedophilia/ephebophilia, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:02:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 76,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23543575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FabFuta1234/pseuds/FabFuta1234
Summary: Doug's life was turned on its head when he discovered that he's The Chosen, the reality-bending savior of the universe. But to grow his powers so he can destroy the Malevolence, he's gotta do it with girls – a LOT of girls.In Act One, Doug must build up his harem by finding the girls who love him. It's easier said than done. With secrets, enemies, and good-ol'-fashioned stupidity threatening to tear them apart, can Doug keep it together and show his girls how much he loves them?Official site: https://strangestharemficevah.blogspot.com/
Relationships: Magnum Harem - Relationship
Series: The Strangest Harem Fic Evah [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694323
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. He's Got the Power, Part One

August 11, 2019 AD.

Kikehuwet, Delaware.

_ It was 2 AM. People were still asleep. This included a most dangerous man. _

_ The man, with his thin face, tanned complexion, and bleached blonde hair didn’t look too dangerous. But one only had to look at the room he slumbered in to see who he really was. _

_ Alvin Winston was his name. Guns were his game. The twenty-one-year-old had been an avid enthusiast since he’d first learned what they were. They were so much more elegant than blades and blunt objects were when it came to killing, he thought. No need to get close. No need to learn fancy tricks. Just pull the trigger and your enemy’s down. There were pictures of guns taped to the walls all over his bedroom. As were stills taken during horrific shootings from across the world. Calling Alvin disturbed would be an understatement, likely a fatal one. _

_ His newest acquisition, an AR-15, lay on a rack bolted into the wall. Alvin had been itching to test out the black assault rifle, which he’d snatched from a military training camp last summer. The fools guarding that particular armory had never been the wiser. As he slept, Alvin pondered over what he could do to make it so that one look at him would make the world tremble in fear. _

_ That’s when... _ _ it _ _ spoke to him. _

**_Alvin_ ** _ , its deep voice, so full of hate you could smell it, taste it, touch it, thrummed in his mind. Alvin didn’t quite know what it was; it was quite secretive about itself. But it knew HIM, and it always had his best interests in mind. _

**_The time has come. Today, I want you to do what you’ve planned._ **

**_Kill as many as you see fit._ **

_ Alvin smiled in his sleep. He liked this voice, whatever it was. _

* * *

_ Not everyone felt the same way about that voice, though. On the other side of the Delawarean town, a husky blonde-haired girl looked to be sleeping peacefully, but in her mind she knew something very troubling was about to take place. _ _  
  
_

_ The dreamscape’s entrance consisted of a smooth, dark gray void with a hard floor. The girl entered through a puff of dust, and once she cleared that dust off her salmon nightgown she padded forward in her socked feet. Suddenly, she stopped at a very specific spot. _

_ In front of her appeared a set of disembodied blue-purple eyes adorned with mascara, floating high above her. One, two, three. The owner of the eyes began to utter a series of clicks with meanings incomprehensible to the normal person, but the girl had abilities most didn’t, and completely understood the thoughts issued directly into her mind. _

_ “Have you made your arrangements?”  _ _ the eyes’ owner asked with her deep, too-feminine voice. _

_ “Yeah, all the invitations have been sent save for the one,” the girl replied. “Any luck finding him?” _

_ “No. But his identity has been narrowed down to someone in your city, although 44002 people is still a lot to sift through. And we are rapidly running out of time.” _

_ “We are?” the girl asked, tilting her head. _

_ “Yes,” _ _ the eyes said, shaking gravely from side to side.  _ _ “For if we do not find him by tomorrow… _

_ “Then no one will ever stop suffering.” _

* * *

Doug Vision

_ Surreal colors. Pink, yellow, soft green, Brandeis blue…and they’re all mixing together. _

_ An opening in blazing highlighter yellow. I am swallowed into the void... _

And then my bladder’s nerves decided to poke and prod at my urethra, waking me up.

“Well, I’ll let you off the hook this time,” I muttered to my crotch. The dream hadn’t been particularly interesting, just...weird. No. Strange. Weird was for actions. Strange was for things.

I shifted upright, got out of bed, and headed to the bathroom. I dropped my pajama shorts and sat down on the toilet, waiting until I was certain that I was empty to get back up again. After pulling my shorts back up, I looked into the mirror, briefly.

I frowned. I hated how I looked. My body was far too skinny and bony for my liking. Azure eyes I felt were too sunken into my skull. Light brown hair that was cut far too short for my liking. My hair had poof, my hair had waves. I’d look much better with longer hair, not with a flat fringe like I had.

My father disagreed, though. When I’d finally asked him why  _ he _ insisted on having ridiculously short hair,  _ he’d _ gone off on another fifty-minute lecture. I was nine then, but even seven years ago I was tired of  _ his _ rants.

Even with my nigh-photographic memory, I don’t remember all of what  _ he _ said. Frankly, considering how much the bastard rambled and went off-topic, it’s a miracle  _ he _ was even able to say it. Basically,  _ he _ said this: long hair was for women. Short hair was for men. If a man even had hair with bangs in the front and a fringe growing from the back that ended a little past the base of the skull, he’d be mistaken for a woman, and that would never do.

I then made the mistake of asking why some men I’d seen in movies, like Tarzan, were long-haired but very, very manly. Involuntarily, I rubbed the back of my head where I’d hit the frame of the couch after he’d shoved me onto my back.

I checked the clock in my bathroom. 7:56. I heard a clattering noise and an “Eep!” from downstairs. Mom was up and making breakfast. She always got up very early. I guess being a doctor does that to you.

I internally debated not getting dressed, but remembered my father would throw a fit if I did. As  _ he _ would about anything, really, and it was impossible for me to tell what would set him off. So I learned to be quiet.

Of course, I just had to have Asperger’s too, which made knowing when to shut up hard for me as well. I seriously believed life was out to get me.

And it had every justification to, for who could love a freak of nature like me?

* * *

“Hi sweetie!” Mom greeted me. She’s shorter than I am, 5’4” to my 5’8”. Fluffy black hair and freckled tan skin. Stoutly built with wide hips and smallish breasts; over her body was a red t-shirt, slate gray sweatpants, and purple socks. Above her comically oversized nose her warm, grass green eyes greeted me as she gave me an obligatory hug. I stiffened at her touch; I wasn’t naturally inclined to like it that much.

“Pancakes are ready, Doug. I was going to get you, but then my mind wandered, and now some of them are burnt…”

“Burnt is better than nothing,” I said, extricating myself and waving my hand dismissively. “Besides,  _ he _ doesn’t like the burnt ones. I’m actually getting to eat a decent breakfast for once.”

My father had a bad habit of stealing my food.  _ He _ already ate more than my mother and I combined, why did  _ he _ need more? I guess  _ he _ just liked to make me feel bad.

In case you didn’t figure this out yet, my father is an abusive fuck who only cares about himself and his outdated ideals. I’d never once called him “Dad”, even as a little kid, for the very reason that my gut kept telling me something was off about him.

Word of advice, guts trump brain every time. Except for tests. Brain always excels at tests.

Mom chuckled uneasily as I gathered the burnt pancakes onto a blue glass plate. After making sure there was an exact multiple of four (24 this time), I brought them over to the dining room table, got the maple syrup over them, a mug filled with milk, and a fork.

“Are you sure?” Mom asked. “I mean, they’re burnt…”

“Mom, I said it was fine. You should focus more on eating.”

“Oh! Right!”

As a baby Mom, real name Nya Dimya-Magnum, was dropped on the head by a brother of hers I’d never met. As a result, she had significant mental issues. Not retardation, mind you (she was almost as smart as me and was the sole breadwinner of our family), but deficits in what my father called Executive Function. (You read that right.  _ He _ often capitalized the words  _ he _ was saying; it annoyed me to no end). She was disorganized and forgetful, and her way of thinking wasn’t linear in the least. But hey, she was a better person and parent than my father was, and for me, that was enough.

As we ate, Mom mentioned, “I found this article in the paper about a new college they’re opening up right here.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Kikehuwet College of Arts, they’re calling it. So far they’ve only got a few buildings finished, but they’ve got a program next week about animated film. Wouldn’t you like that?”

I sighed.

“Doug, you’re going to have to get involved with the world if you want to be a part of it.”

_ But I don’t want to be part of a world that bullies me every chance it gets! _

“And the colleges look for summer activities, you know this.”

“It isn’t my fault I have no life,” I growled. “Blame  _ him _ .” After finishing eating in silence, I stood up and put my dirty dishes into the sink. “I’m going to get the mail. Those guys can wait.” With that, I left.

* * *

It wasn’t the biggest victory, but the day I convinced my father that I should go outside to get the mail every Sunday was immense for me.  _ He _ was such a control freak that until then, I wasn’t allowed to be by myself, be without  _ his _ overly-watchful gaze staring into me. I was glad it was there, but at the same time disappointed that it took until last year for me to gain anything even remotely resembling freedom.

Luckily, I was already dressed, in an orange t-shirt, gray-blue cargo shorts, white socks (I privately wished I had other colors besides white, gray, and black in terms of socks), and black sneakers with silver accents.

As I walked down the sidewalk, I squinted. I wanted sunglasses but again, my father. At least the other houses made some shade. Mine was set back a little up a path, and despite being far bigger than the other houses on the block, it was angled in such a way that the white paint reflected the sun right into your eyes even if you were in front of it.

Also, all the houses on our block shared a communal mailbox. Another dumb thing made by the dumb people in this dumb town.

“Doug? Oh, hi!”

Well, not everyone there was dumb. My mood brightened a bit when I saw Scarlet nearing me. Scarlet was my neighbor from down the street, and although she had a year on me, she and I were quite close.

“You getting the mail also?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said, fishing the keys to my mailbox out of a leg pocket. As I opened the door to it, I continued. “Plus I needed a break from being near my parents.”

“I know that feeling,” Scarlet replied. “Your father’s not the only one with tight control over their child’s life.”

“At least yours actually loves you,” I replied. Damn, no mail today. I closed the mailbox a little angrily.

Scarlet nodded wistfully. I backed up and let her at the mailbox. Wow, I forgot how many keys she had back then.

While she was busy, I decided to let my eyes wander over her body. I didn’t have a crush on any one girl; instead I had ninglings of feelings for many girls in my age range. I didn’t know what to do when it came to love anymore, so I just decided to explore all my options until one female decided she could put up with me.

Assuming someone even  _ could _ .

Scarlet was quite an attractive seventeen-year-old. 5’9” of beauty and grace, plus she had a cute face. She had long, flowing red hair with a slight orange tint and friendly light green eyes, both of which went well with her creamy, slightly pink skin. She had thin lips and a nose that was of a normal shape and size. Arms and legs toned from years as a swimmer added to the beauty of her torso. Her dark blue tank top accentuated her modest breasts, while her black shorts (the leg length was as long as mine, her father wasn’t one for indecency) did the same for her plump, supple butt. Around her neck was a necklace bearing a small, triangular dull purple stone of unknown species (to me, at least), and her left wrist bore two thin bracelets, one purple above one blue.

Then, when I was sure Scarlet was busy preoccupied with sorting her mail, I looked down at the ground.

Yes! Scarlet was wearing her dark brown Rainbow flip-flops, and her toenails were painted the same cotton candy pink as her fingernails. Involuntarily, my man parts began to stiffen at the sight of her beautiful size 10 ½ feet. And my autistic compulsions began to nag at me. It was time to relieve the pressure.

“Uh...Scarlet?”

“Hm?” she asked looking up from her mail. “Free the”...wait, was that “thots” written on that slip?!

“I, uh...like your pedicure.”

“Oh, thanks!” she beamed. “Did them and my fingernails myself. Wasn’t sure about it ‘cuz this particular brand is a bit thicker than what I’m used to, so I’m glad at least someone likes it.” Indeed, on closer inspection the application seemed a little more forced, as though the polish itself tried to resist the brush. But Scarlet made it work, so I decided to keep complimenting her and making her feel good.

“Yeah, your fingernails look great too.”

“You little gent,” she grinned, meaning it. She lightly tapped my left shoulder with the back of her right wrist; I didn’t flinch for once. Then she frowned. “Wish I could say the same for the jokers who keep putting this crap in our box. Seriously, this is an environmental nightmare!”

“Perhaps it should be your senior project.” Our school, Grant Academy, made us do them in twelfth grade to “Apply [our] learning to the community.” I’d attended one last year and found them pretty pointless, frankly.

“Yeah, that’s actually a good idea! I was really struggling to think of a topic for mine.” Scarlet smiled. “Thanks buddy. And good luck with your stuff!”

As she left, I remembered the dishes had to be put away.

* * *

When I came back, the dirty plate, fork, and mug where they were in the sink. I ran water over them, then opened the dishwasher. I nearly dropped my plate. “Yeagh!” But I caught it in time and began clumsily trying to put it into an open slot.

“MOVE!”

Fuck me sideways with a ruler.  _ He _ was up.

I looked up to see my father. A corpulent mass of an elderly man, 6’2” up and 53” around. Graying blonde hair cut very short, an obsessively short beard, and eyes a dull reddish-brown, the same color as the walls of all the rooms in my house, save mine thanks to a typo when the original paint supply ran out (I ended up with my favorite green). This was Bond Magnum, my father in genetic contributions to my existence only.

“I’m doing my best,” I replied meekly.

“Are you?”  _ he _ snarled. “Because it looks like you’re Fooling Around, and that’s not the right thing to do. Plus, I need my Coffee, so GET OUT OF MY WAY YOU LITTLE SHIT!”

I hastily scrambled to put everything back.

“HURRY UP!”

“I’m done!” I said, throwing my hands up after closing the dishwasher. Quickly I slipped past  _ him _ . Thank goodness for my skinny powers.

My father sighed. “You really shouldn’t slip past people like that, it’s Weird.”

_ Weird gets the job done, jerk. _

I had other things to do, as the memory of Scarlet’s kind words reminded me. Quickly I retrieved Blorb, a plush reaper cuttlefish I’d had since I was a baby, from the couch cushions (I  _ was _ autistic, after all, so Blorb was a security object for me.  _ He _ went a lot of places in the house, sans the bathrooms and the kitchen) and headed upstairs.

As I walked upstairs,  _ he _ turned his anger on my mother. “Why aren’t you Made Up?”

“Uh, I didn’t think going to the store warrants that, unless there’s like a secret party for the millionth box of graham crackers,” my mother replied, total sincerity in her voice.

“Nya, you always have to be Presentable, otherwise no one will ever like Talking With You.”  _ He _ groaned. “I’m doing this For You, woman! Cut me a  _ break _ .”

Mom whimpered. “Y-yes, dear.”

_ Asshole. _

* * *

Scarlet didn’t know about my foot fetish. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust her, far from it. It was more my fear of being found out. Some of the girls in my life knew, accepted it as a natural part of life (two even turned out to have one themselves), and promised to keep it secret. But Scarlet’s father was a particularly by-the-book cop and he’d made it very clear that Scarlet was not allowed to date until after college, when he was certain she’d had enough experience to make good decisions. He didn’t like normal, innocent guys hanging around her; Neil Gordon would be furious at finding out one of her friends was a little pervert.

Scarlet was a nice girl, though, and that’s what I liked best about her. She was perky and sweet, and while a little airheaded she always seemed to know what would make us happy.

That was what was going through my mind as I searched for some decent foot fetish porn on my phone.

Interesting segue, I know. But Scarlet’s pretty pink pedi had reminded me of my unnaturally strong libido. I once heard a doctor who didn’t like my mother mutter that she slept around a lot in college. Since the woman in question was my mother, I had no intention of verifying that. Whatever the reason, I had a massive sexual appetite, and if I didn’t masturbate regularly, I’d dirty my pants every night.

Though of course, the way I do it might have the same effect if not done right. See, I couldn’t just tug and let loose; that didn’t work. I masturbated by basically humping my bed, simulating vaginal sex by rubbing my cock between my thighs. And I had killer thighs from running away from my problems.

I groaned after running into too much of the same old JOI. “Seriously, why do so many of these girls have to be such bullies?” I grumbled. Then I saw a title I didn’t recognize: DOMINICAN HOTTIE BEGS FOR TOE SUCKING. Hm, a more submissive one. Let’s see.

The video began.

“Oh! You’re...here,” the girl in the video said. Her voice was soft and lovely. The tags identified her as SELENA VERACRUZ. She was tall and slender, with dark skin and black hair (obviously she had African ancestry). She was fully clothed, with a black t-shirt and mush green (my name for the color of cooked string beans) tights. Her feet were out of frame, below the bed she was sitting on; I had enough experience to know why.  “No one else is home, sweetie; my family’s out for today. And it’s been a long time since we last did it…”

I began thrusting. My cock bent down so it’d feel more comfortable. At full length, I was a little over 7 ¾ inches. Take some notes, female readers.

Selena lifted her legs and propped her bare feet up on the bed. Her feet were about the same size as Scarlet’s, maybe a little bigger. Her toes, however, were proportionately longer, something I found made feet more enticing than normal. Selena bent her toes down to reveal her fluorescent yellow polish.  “You wanna suck my toes?” she asked, kindly and sincerely.

_ Yes. I’d do more than that, even. _

The camera nodded. Selena grinned and straightened her toes.  “Thanks, honey, I was hoping you’d say yes…”

Then she groaned as the “invisible man” began to “lick” her toes. My thrusts became more frequent.

“Yeah...right there...ohhhhh, suck them.” Her left hand went into her tights, and her right slipped under her shirt. Her D-cups (I assumed that’s how big they were, I didn’t know shit about cup size back then) began jiggling, while her left hand began to thrust its fingers into her vagina.  “Don’t forget my soles...oooh, you didn’t, this feels really nice…”

I pressed ahead to a scene later in the video. Selena was more bedraggled now, her clothes gone. She was breathing heavily.  “Let’s...take things up a notch…”

Then she simulated a footjob to her “lover”. Fast forward again. More thrusting on my end. Selena’s “partner” “came” onto her toes. Selena giggled lustfully as she rubbed her feet against each other. Then she took me by surprise and did something I hadn’t seen enough of: she lifted her left foot and ran her tongue along her toes, before doing the same for her other foot, self-worshipping them “clean”.  “Your cum is always delicious, sweetie, especially off of my freshly-sucked toes.” She wiggled her toes one final time.  “Thanks.”

That did it. I came.

Quickly, I closed that tab on my phone and retrieved my tissue ball from beneath my bed. The tissue ball was exactly what it sounded like: a ball of tissues glued together by dried semen. It was quite handy for cleaning oneself up. Wasn’t the first one I’d ever made, but it did the job. When I was done I hid the ball back under the bed, and pulled my shorts back up (to save time I’d done it fully clothed). After rapidly deleting my search history for the day, I plugged my phone back into its charger, removed my blanket from the array of pillows Blorb lived in (he needed his innocence still) and sighed.

“Blorb, this would be so much easier if I could stop time, don’t you think? It’d be a lot easier to hide it, and it’d waste less time,” I said to the plushy. He didn’t reply, but I pretended he’d nodded yes.

Heavy footsteps charging up the stairs, and soon  _ he _ slammed my door open. “Turn the lights on! You can’t See in this!”  _ he _ griped, quickly flicking the light switch on.

“I could see just fine…” With blue eyes, I was inherently light-sensitive.

“No you can’t. Anyway, we’re going to the store really soon, so get ready.”

I got out of bed, put my wallet, phone, and keys into my shorts pockets, and went downstairs to put my shoes on, which I did. “I’m done!”

“No you aren’t! You need to have a Clean face!” With that,  _ he _ thumped downstairs after me.  _ He _ grabbed a bottle of acne cream and shoved me against the wall.  _ Ow _ . “Head up!”  _ he _ barked. I tried, but in my position it was hard to move. “Head up!”

As  _ he _ slathered the acne cream on, I internally cringed. My less-than-manly body meant I had less acne than most people my age. My father, however, thought it appropriate to torture me by covering my entire face with goo (I hated having anything put on my face that was like paint in terms of texture), rather than the few areas where it needed to be. And this particular chemical didn’t make it better. Oh no, it dried out my skin and made it itch, and kept bacteria inside so they could create more acne.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mother. She was wearing mascara, lipstick, the other ones I don’t know the names of, normally reserved just for work. She looked sad.

I didn’t blame her. My father had tricked her when they’d first met, using her impaired ability to judge character to trap her into a marriage with  _ him _ . My father was governed by the 1950s’ rules of what was “supposed” to be done. And that included having a submissive, dimwitted wife and a strong, manly son.

_ He _ instead got a mentally-handicapped but still intelligent woman, and a total, complete dork and fool for a child. I guess we both deserved our punishments.

* * *

Acme wasn’t the best store, but it was the closest to us. Still, my father’s incredible girth and laziness surpassing even my own meant  _ he _ drove us there, insisting on driving despite  _ his _ age destroying  _ his _ body.

Though I suspected  _ his _ sanity was in far worse shape than  _ his _ back and arms, and was really just barely holding together like a crumbling piece of plaster held together with Scotch tape.

I’d left my parents behind as my father whined about the bread not being what  _ h _ e wanted, opting instead to wander the store in search of anything we might need, but didn’t know about.

It was peaceful in the store. The rhythmic beeps of items being checked out, people shifting forwards as the conveyors were cleared. My vision focused on a cashier not much older than me, with black hair and a muscular build. The kind of son my father wanted. He’d probably be our cashier today, and then  _ he _ would hold everyone up with  _ his _ useless crap. Just another typical day in the life of Doug Magnum, the boy who–

_ BLAM! _

The cashier I was talking about suddenly went down, blood spurting from his chest.

Oh crap! A gunman’s here!

Quickly, I ran off to hide.

* * *

_ Alvin advanced into the store, cackling madly. “Hear me, citizens! I am Alvin Winston, and if you don’t submit, you will DIE!” _

_ “Oh no you don’t!” came the voice of a manager. She raced at him, only for Alvin to casually pull out his assault rifle and let loose. When he was done, the flesh on her torso was hanging on by only a few threads, and her now-visible heart and lungs shuddered before their motion ceased. Alvin didn’t stick around, instead opting to advance further into the heart of the store. _

_ Bond stood dumbly next to a display rack of soup cans. “Bond! Oh, for chrissakes,” Nya groaned, yanking her husband down next to her behind the rack. _

_ “Ow! You didn’t Need to Do That!” he snapped. _

_ “Yes, I did! This is a gunman, Bond! We could die!” She gasped. _

_ Alvin looked at them. A barely-middle-aged MILF with tanned skin, black hair, and an oversized nose. Wearing a red t-shirt, dark gray sweatpants, and light blue sneakers with purple socks. Pity he’d have to kill her, she was quite a cutie. _

_ Her husband was a different story. He was old, and fat, and his hair was cut in an ugly short style. Despite the mercury’s position at over 80 degrees that day, he was wearing a long, button-down black shirt, blue jeans, thick black sneakers with white socks, and...was that a fucking windbreaker in the cart next to them? Wow, what a dope. _

_ As he looked at them with intrigue, his head began to throb uncomfortably.  _ **_Spare them_ ** _ , the voice in his head spoke. _

Why? _ Alvin thought back. _

**_Because for you to get what you want, that man has to be alive. Trust me, he’s an ally, though he certainly doesn’t know it. His wife shall be spared, too, but she’s no friend. Rather, I have a score to settle with her, and I_ ** **ALWAYS** **_follow through on my promises._ **

Whatever, man. _ Alvin slunk off. _

_ “See? He didn’t attack us! He probably realized how Great I am,” Bond boasted. _

_ Nya glared at him. For the first time in her life, she didn’t fear his potential reaction to what she had to say next: _

_ “Seriously?!” _

* * *

Doug Vision

From my vantage point on top of the frozen food section, hidden among the leaves of some fake plants, I watched in horror. Whoever this Alvin butt was, he was ruthless.

Then I saw him approach down the aisle. He didn’t see me, but what I saw made my blood run cold. He was advancing on a group of small children, their parents having fled and thus abandoning them to a potentially gruesome fate.

Alvin chuckled. “End of the line for you, brats!” The children, three boys and two girls, shrieked.

Their lives were going to end prematurely, and there was nothing I could do about it!

Then, something in me snapped.

No.

I  **could** do something.

I’d gotten onto the top of the freezers by climbing on the box-thingy at the bottom of the doors, so getting back down would be easy. But the children had to be saved first. Quickly, I shoved one of the plastic plants onto the ground.

_ Shfft! _ That distracted him. “The fuck?” I heard him mutter as I slid down the other side of the freezers. I ran forward, trying to find something – a lawn chair. That’ll work.

I rounded the bend and made a “shhh” motion to the kids, before sneaking up on Alvin. He’d turned around and walked over to the fake fig tree, and was presently inspecting it to see why it wasn’t broken.

“Odd. Must be fake,” he said as I raised the chair over my head. Then I brought it down.

_ CRACK! _

Alvin stumbled. Then he turned around, and snarled at me. “Why didn’t you submit?!”

“Because I’ve done enough of that in my life,” I snapped back, “and I wanted to find out what not submitting felt like.” Alvin raised his gun, but I smacked it out of his hands with the chair. It bounced along the linoleum before stopping at the beginning of the aisle. “Kids, don’t touch that!” I turned back to Alvin and dropped the chair. “Anyways, what I was saying is that I recently grew a metaphorical spine, and it’s doing wonders for my persona’s posture. Now, I want you to leave, and never come back.”

Alvin growled. “Fight me, bitch!”

“If I’m a bitch, that means I’ve got the heart of a WOLF!” I growled, before punching Alvin right in the armpit.

I easily dodged his punches thanks to my skinny powers, before landing a blow at an exposed ear. Being the son of a doctor had its perks, like teaching me where everyone’s weak spots are. Alvin’s blood trickled down my fist as he clutched his ear; I must’ve ruptured the eardrum. For a killer, he had little experience at hand-to-hand combat. Then again, gun users were by far the weakest of all killers in terms of both physical and mental strength.

“I don’t want to keep fighting you,” I growled. “So go. And DON’T take the gun.” It was then that we noticed it was gone. Alvin conceded defeat and ran away.

“He’s getting away!” I heard some concerned mother screech.

“Don’t worry ma’am, I stopped him, that’s all that matters.” Wait, what the fuck?!

I raced ahead to see a rusty orange-haired man holding the gun. “I took care of the gun, and he ran away before deciding to leave the store.”

“That’s not true!” I protested. People took notice. “I fought him off myself with my bare hands, the kids saw me!”

“Pfft. Please. Like a shrimp like you could ever man up,” the man scoffed. People around him laughed.

“But it’s true!”

I felt  _ his _ hand on my shirt collar yanking me back. “Ignore my son,” my father said to them. “He’s autistic, can’t interpret things correctly.” To me I got a cold “We need to talk.”

Once we were far enough away,  _ he _ slammed me against the ground. “You’re Making a Scene! Can’t you just let people take Credit for what they Deserve?”

“He didn’t do anything! He must’ve taken the gun while Alvin and I were fighting!”

“I know, your mother and I saw the fight. But I said that he  _ deserves _ the Credit, because you weren’t Manly enough to Kill.”  _ He _ glared at me. “You are a Disgrace to the Magnum Family, and you will Never Amount to Anything. You are  _ Nothing _ .”

I sobbed.  _ He _ grinned maliciously. “Now let’s get the Bread.”

Mom approached me and hugged me. “Ignore him. You’re good enough. The truth’s going to come out eventually.”

“Is it?...”

* * *

_ Hours later, the blonde girl was watching the news. She grimaced. “It sickens me that people do this. And then that guy made fun of Doug!” Gwen scoffed. “Who does he think he is? I bet Doug was really the one who fought that shooter, not that jerky ginger.” _

_ “He was,”  _ _ the owner of the eyes confirmed in her mind telepathically.  _ _ “But there’s a more pressing matter at hand.” _

_ “How so?” _

_ A deep breath. _

_ “Get ready, Gwen. After years of searching, we have finally found The Chosen.” _

* * *

August 12, 2019 AD.

Kikehuwet, Delaware.

Doug Vision

Nothing. I was nothing. And there was no place in the world for nothings.

“Goodbye, Blorb,” I whispered to him tearfully. “Goodbye, dinos,” I said to my collection of Little Dinosaurs™. “Goodbye, everyone.”

It was early in the morning. Mom was so stressed out from yesterday she was sleeping in. My father wouldn’t be up for a while.

It was time to do this.

I’m bad.

I was always bad.

Fully dressed, I slipped out of my house and approached the street. The cars would come soon. All the better to end my life.

And people who are bad get punished.

I saw an SUV the color of night near me. Good. I took a deep breath. Sheesh, I was finally doing what I should’ve done a long time ago.

I took one step closer...and that’s when my entire life changed.

A flash of yellow quickly sparked into existence in the air above me. I looked up. A piece of paper had materialized out of thin air and lazily drifted down, before landing on my face.

I stepped backwards away from the road and removed the paper so I could read what was on it. A gift from God, this wasn’t, for there was no such thing. But it looked like a gift from...Gwen.

Hey all! I’m having a Squad Alpha Catch-up Party today at noon. Food will be provided! I can’t wait to see you lovely people today!

~ Gwen Roberts

Gwen...wanted me there? Maybe she pitied me...no, she genuinely liked me.

* * *

I used to go to Saulsbury 5-12, a magnet school that only accepted the best students of the best. Unfortunately, their highschool section was built to only handle half the middle school population by mistake, so they had a lottery to decide who got in. I didn’t.

When I came to Grant Academy in ninth, I was very stressed out by not having hardly anyone there that I knew. In fact, I’d ended up crying by the time lunch started. One of the girls in my Literacy 1H class noticed, though, and came up to me.

“Hey...are you alright?” I’d looked up to see a tall, muscular blonde girl, with gorgeous sapphire blue eyes, had approached my desk. She looked concerned.

“No...I don’t know anyone here,” I’d choked out.

The girl sat next to me and hugged me, holding me against her chest. I found comfort in the warmth of her chest, and was amazed that her wonderfully squishy boobs were literally touching my face. “You can know me,” she said. “I’m Gwen. Come with me to lunch, I’ll introduce you to my friends, and then they can be yours too.”

After that, I’d met a lot more people, branched out to every nook and cranny of the school.

I owed her a lot.

* * *

“Looks like it’s not going to happen, ‘cuz I’ve got a reason to live now,” I said to Blorb as I returned to my room. Noticing something else, I added, “And I still have to figure out who  _ you _ are.” I picked up a picture frame from the headboard of my bed. The frame contained the visage of the one time I’d made it with a girl.

* * *

It happened almost ten years ago. My family was at some friend of my mom’s baby shower, and I and the other little kids were bored out of our little minds. So one of the slightly older kids decided to introduce us to Spin the Bottle.

“Here’s how you play,” the brown-haired boy had said as he set an empty bubbly water bottle on the floor. “We all sit in a circle, criss-cross applesauce.”

“I don’t like applesauce,” someone objected. I had to agree with him, though it was more the texture than the taste.

The boy sighed. “That’s not important! What is is that each one of us spins the bottle, and when it lands on someone, you have to kiss them.”

“Ooooooh”’s went all around. “But what if you’re a boy and get a boy, or a girl and get a girl?”

“Kiss them?” a soft-spoken girl asked. She had messy black hair with a slight purple tint and was quite a bit smaller than the rest of the kids our age, though she was actually about the same size as me. Her hair covered her eyes, though in the shadows of her bangs I could tell she was being honest and serious.

“No! Doug’s daddy says that’s bad, and he’s a mean daddy.” It was true, my father’s an LGBT-phobe and a bully. “So we...tickle each other!” If only he knew that was one of the world’s most common fetishes (not one of mine, of course, I have more dignity than that). The girl looked a little disappointed.

“Okay, that’s kinda a good game,” a blonde girl said. “Let’s do it!”

So we did. The first time, a boy got a girl much younger than him; he just kissed her head. A boy got a boy the second time, and a girl got a girl the third. Their suffering was funny, but some of us were getting antsy.

“C’mon! We gotta have a real kiss... _ on the LIPS _ !” a black girl groaned.

“Hey, it’s my turn,” I realized. So I spun the bottle. It landed on the shy girl, who looked uneasy.

As everyone cheered, I scooted close to the girl and whispered into her ear, “What’s wrong?”

“I like girls more than boys,” she whispered back. “But I don’t want your father to hurt me.”

I rubbed my shoulder awkwardly. “Then...pretend I’m a girl. I’ve been told I look a lot like one.”

She smiled. We stood up and started hugging.

I heard Mom gasp. “Guys, come quick! Something’s going to happen!”

The girl and I inched our faces together, and then my lips were suddenly mushtulating with hers. The feeling was electric, coursing through my being. I felt so alive. I knew right then and there that I loved this girl, whoever she was.

My mother had taken a picture while it was happening. When the kiss ended, the girl’s face was beet red. I can only imagine what mine must’ve looked like.

“WHAT?”  _ he _ bellowed.

Eventually, Mom printed the picture, and I put it on my headboard. It’s the only thing I had to remember the girl by because soon after that day, she disappeared. I hadn’t seen her since.

* * *

“Still, it’s weird that this invitation appeared out of nothing,” I said. “Hmph. This must be the strangest party invite  _ evah _ ,” making sure to intentionally mispronounce the last word for comedic effect.

Better than dead, I guess.

* * *

“We’ll be back at 12:30,” my father grunted. “Don’t be Stupid...oh wait, too late.”  _ He _ drove off.

“How’d you even get your dad to let you come, dude?” Cameron-kun, who’d also just arrived, asked me. He was a big guy, 6’1” and all muscle. The Armenian was currently wearing a dark blue shiny t-shirt, khaki shorts, and gray sneakers with yellow-striped white socks. The honorific was because I knew a female Cameron in the same grade; she became Cameron-chan.

“I told him it was for socialization,” I replied. “It’s his own fault for not giving me a life. How are you?”

“Eh, I’ve been better. Summer job’s kinda boring, though what do you expect from the guy who has to organize the Walmart shelves?”

“At least you got OFF your ass. Yesterday was the only real excitement I’ve had all summer.”

“So it really was you? Damn, you’re a badass.”

“Thank you. How’d you know?”

Cameron-kun shook his head. “Gwen’s been harping on how you weren’t treated fairly by the public since yesterday. God, she filled up the entire groupchat.”

“In my defense, it’s true,” Gwen said, filling the doorway to her house. I’d never had much experience going to people’s houses, so I trembled a bit as I followed Cameron-kun inside.

“I think that’s everyone,” Gwen said to the assembled people. “Let’s get this started!”

I’d taken the liberty of naming the social cliques of the school. The Squad was by far the largest in my grade; Squad Alpha alone was thirteen strong, and there were an additional six subdivisions, the group of academic athletes was so massive.

As the other people clapped, I decided to look Gwen over. She was wearing a very pretty yellow sundress, with intricate black swirls stitched into it. Her shoulders were broader than the normal girl’s, but she’d figured out how to work around it. At 5’10”, she was quite Amazonian in her figure.

I looked down. Gwen was one of those girls who knew I was a foot fetishist, and to my relief, she was as well, admitting she found her own size 11 feet attractive. To my dismay, she was wearing light blue-spotted indigo socks with her black leather Arizona Birkenstocks. Her fingernails were unpainted, but that didn’t bring my hopes down; her toenails were more often done than her fingernails anyway.

The noise started to cue up. “Oh, you’re going DOWN, Caroline!” I heard Katie boast. Katie was impulsive and reckless, but she had good intentions. She was 5’7, had poofy brown hair and matching eyes, slightly brownish skin for reasons I didn’t know, and had probably the biggest biceps of any girl there. Right now, she was wearing a black headband, pink t-shirt, black short shorts, and white socks. The size 9 dark blue sneakers I almost tripped over coming over to investigate were likely hers.

Katie was on the couch with Caroline, a mousy Caucasian girl with black hair and eyes, as Isaac and Johnny set up a videogame system. Caroline looked back at Katie and retorted, “You say that every time, and I keep on beating you.”

“Statistically, Katie’s going to have to win eventually,” Isaac pointed out.

“Whose side are you on?” Caroline asked her boyfriend.

“My side. The one with all the cheese.” This earned guffaws from all of us, including me.

Cheese...that reminded me of how hungry I was. I snuck off to the kitchen to see if there was anything good in the fridge. Gwen had said food would be provided; did she expect us to get it ourselves?

As I walked over, someone called my name. “Doug? You alright?” It was Sarah, one of the nicest people I’d ever met. She was 5’3” and had yellow-tinted Caucasian skin, black hair, and gray eyes. She was wearing a black t-shirt with green stripes, dull green cargo shorts, and black slide-on sandals on her size 8 ½ feet. Her fingernails were painted dark red, her toenails black. Me, I was just wearing the same outfit as yesterday, only with a cerulean shirt instead of an orange one.

“No, not really,” I sighed. “After what happened…”

“I guess you really did fight a killer and lived,” Sarah mused. She patted my back. “Good on you. How’re your parents?”

“Mom seems more assertive than usual,  _ he _ hasn’t changed.”

“So I guess you’re still not eating as much as you should be.” Sarah left the kitchen and came back with something wrapped in foil. “Here. Leftovers from my dinner last night. Chicken parmesan on flatbread. I think you like this, right?”

“Yeah, I do. Thank you so much.” I unwrapped the stuff, taking in the glorious smell. After getting myself some black raspberry Ice™ from the fridge, I walked over to the sink and began eating.

“Over the sink?” Sarah asked.

“It’s more efficient this way. Less time spent walking over to wash my hands, no need for a plate.”

“Gotcha. That’s actually really smart.”

“And you’re looking quite nice today,” I offered back.

“Especially my nails?” Sarah asked wryly, placing her hand underneath her chin to flaunt her fingers. Gwen wasn’t the only one in Squad Alpha who knew about you-know-what; Sarah, Katie, Josie, and Kyla also did.

“Of course.”

Sarah grinned. “Thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d better let you eat in peace. You prefer not talking until you’re done, if I’m not mistaken.”

“I appreciate that.” Sarah left the kitchen to return to her friends, and I started eating.

Delicious.

While eating I looked over at the couch and found Josie and Kyla. Josie was a shy, wallflowery Seminole girl, who often kept quiet because she was afraid of being made fun of. Kyla was a major bookworm and younger than the others; she’d skipped half of fourth grade she was so smart. Of course, Kyla wasn’t the smartest person I’d met; that honor went to a member of Squad Beta, Nora Demitriou, an arrogant Greek who was the fifth-smartest person and smartest girl at Grant.

5’3” Josie was off to the side, as usual. She was wearing a dark brown t-shirt, black tights, her iconic dark green bracelets, one on each arm, and had taken off her size 7 black ballet flats at the door (I hadn’t tripped over them), leaving her in just her thin white crew socks. Her fingernails were painted dark brown. 5’6” Kyla was standing closer to the center of the couch, her golden hair tied up into an updo with a black bow. She was wearing a pink tank top with white stripes, a red skirt, and light blue Florida Birkenstocks. Her fingernails were white, her toenails watermelon pink. A silver ring graced the index and ring finger of each hand, and the second toe of each size 8 foot.

“Oh hey, Doug!” Kyla greeted me, exposing her braces. “How are those portraits of us coming along? I mean, you promised us the end of last year you’d do them.”

“And I have,” I affirmed, swallowing the last of my makeshift meal. “Not the usual chibi fare, either. Now all I have to do is get them printed without my parents knowing.”

“Good luck with that,” Josie said timidly.

“I hope I will, though admittedly my luck is pretty much shit.”

“Like Katie’s?” Ted, the designated prankster of the group, joked.

“Hey! I have good luck sometimes!” Katie retorted from the couch. “And stop distracting me, I need to win this!” She and Caroline were playing some generic racing game whose name I never knew. And Katie did need to win this, for she was behind on the last lap.

Suddenly, the car swerved. Out of the corner of my eye, I swore I saw Gwen move her hand and some yellow energy come out of it. Just like the letter. Gwen’s full name was Guinevere, and her parents were Morgana and Merlin; was she a wizard?

Katie’s car crossed the line first. “Told ya so,” she smirked.

“So what now?” Johnny asked.

“I think I might have some direct-to-video movie you guys could riff on,” Gwen said, digging through a collection of DVDs before pulling out  _ The Brave Little Toaster Goes to Mars _ . “Doug, could you come with me to my room?”

“What for?”

“I just want to talk to you about yesterday.”

Sounded reasonable.

But as I went upstairs, I saw Gwen make another movement with her hand, with yellow energy emanating from it. When I turned my head around, I swore that I saw the people downstairs freeze.

As though time itself had stopped.

* * *

Gwen’s bedroom was a little neater than mine was. She sat next to me on her bed and padded a spot next to her. “Sit,” she said. I did.

The next thing Gwen did was remove her sandals, and then she took off her socks. Her toenails were painted red, and to my satisfaction she was wearing that toe ring on the second toe of her left foot, and the light red anklet on her left leg.

“You like?” she asked. I nodded. “Uh, Doug,” she began, her cheeks starting to turn pink, “can I request something? Can you be....barefoot, too?”

I paled. “Uh, I’ve never been comfortable people showing my feet…”

“There’s a first time for everything, Doug. Please, you  _ know _ I won’t mock you for them. I want you to know how much I trust you.”

“Okay…” So I slipped off my sneakers and peeled off my own socks. I rested my smaller feet next to hers. Secretly, I was...a little excited. I’d never gotten this close to a girl, even if she did share my kinks.

“Not bad, Doug,” Gwen smiled. “They’re pretty cute.” She rubbed the bottom of her right foot against the top of my left. I shuddered, my cock starting to harden.

“Gwen? Are...you trying to seduce me?”

“Sort of,” she said sheepishly. “I’ve considered dating you multiple times. I can’t help it, you’re humble, and nice…” and then she started crying, hugging me, “and you don’t deserve to be this mistreated! I know you tried to kill yourself this morning, Doug; you’re worth too much to die!”

“WHAT? How do you know about that?”

“I’ve had to keep secrets from you,” Gwen said sadly. “So many secrets that I never wanted to know...but I needed to. Destiny depends on it.”

“How. How would destiny depend on someone who’s not worth it? On someone who can’t do anything right? On someone...who’s nothing?”

Gwen said nothing as I cried into her. When I was done, she said, “Doug, please, listen to me. I like you. Why would I invite you here if I didn’t? And my friends like you a lot; if he weren’t so self-conscious, Johnny would’ve liked a portrait from you too. Doug, you’re so important to all of us...more than you could ever realize. Doug, do you think it’d be possible for you to date me?”

‘Yeah…”

“Then kiss me.”

I blushed. Looking up, I saw she was too. This beautiful girl actually cared about me.

We leaned forward and locked lips. It wasn’t nearly as electric as my first kiss had been, but my second kiss was quite tender and sweet. Our bare feet began rubbing together, setting my soul alight. It was nice, but unfortunately I realized my boner was growing. I was so afraid she’d notice and embarrass me…

And then I felt something hard under her dress in the same area. I broke the kiss. “You certainly seem happy to see me.”

“Oh!” Gwen blushed. “Well, it was going to have to happen anyway. Doug, today you’re going to learn how important you really are. Not just to me...but to the entire  _ universe _ .”

She stood up and took off her dress, slipping her arms through the short sleeves and pulling it over her head. She was wearing a modest teal sports bra and matching...boxers?

Then she took off her boxers, revealing something most unusual.

Not that she was clean-shaven, or that her vagina was nice and pink…

But because instead of a clitoris, a 7 ½-inch penis stood out in front of her.

“So yeah...this is me,” Gwen said nervously.

**End of Part One.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to The Strangest Harem Fic Evah! This harem genre erotica is a parody of harem genre erotica that serves to make the reason why so many girls want one guy plot-relevant.
> 
> Gwen is intersex, not transgender, BTW. More in part two.
> 
> So what’s going to happen next? Stay tuned to find out…
> 
> And please give me your lovely reviews! I’ll respond like so:
> 
> Person: Why is this so weird?
> 
> Because I can.


	2. He's Got the Power, Part Two

August 12, 2019 AD.

Kikehuwet, Delaware.

Doug Vision

I couldn’t help but stare. Gwen, who I’d thought was a normal girl this whole time, turned out to have a dick. And was probably magical, if the yellow flashes she could produce were any indication.

“Something wrong?” Gwen asked. She turned away, ashamed.

“No, I just wasn’t expecting you to be intersex, is all.”

Gwen immediately perked up. “You didn’t assume I was trans! That’s great!” Her expression changed to a bemused one. “Damn, you’re taking this rather well.”

“I’ve seen a lot of things that were much weirder than this.”

“I know what you mean. I’m the kind of girl who puts whipped cream on her pizza pockets. It tastes better than it sounds,” she added nervously.

I shrugged, then pointed to her cock, which wasn’t as erect as before. “What genetic mutation caused this?” I was very curious, she looked like something straight out of untranslated hentai.

Gwen smiled. “I have a partially-functional SRY-1 gene attached to one of my X-chromosomes. Error in my dad’s sperm, most likely. What it means for me is that my clitoris is actually fused with my urethra into a penis.”

“Can you jack off with it?”

“Yep! But it’s not sperm; my cum is made of polar bodies left over from egg cell production. Which for me, unlike normal girls, is constantly happening throughout my life, like it does with sperm for a guy.”

Very interesting. Then I thought of something...dirtier. “Um, if you don’t mind me asking...can you fuck yourself?”

“Yeah, I can,” Gwen blushed. “Took my own virginity at thirteen.” She gasped. “Ooh, Doug, do you like futas as well as feet?” I looked down and saw my own erection. “Well, sweetie, we’re going to have some fun today…”

I couldn’t believe it. I was going to have sex with a cute, intelligent, and incredibly nice girl! Who cared if she had a cock almost as big as mine, she was consenting! But something still bothered me. “Gwen, you seem a little  _ too _ perfect for an intersex girl. Also you mentioned that the fate of the universe involves me. So what gives?”

“Well, the reason I’m so perfect is because your destiny depends on you...sucking me off,” Gwen admitted, her erection back in full force. Then it deflated when she changed the subject. “Doug, how do you think the universe will end?”

“Um...I hope it doesn’t?”

“In a sense, it won’t. When the universe reaches 10 to the 771st power plus eight years old, it’ll contract in on itself until it’s back to an infinitesimally small and dense point. Then it’ll go through another Big Bang, and history will repeat itself exactly the same way. It’s done this for eternity.

“Or at least, that’s what  _ used _ to happen. The cycle before this one, and the one we’re in right now, aren’t exact repeats.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll need to give a little backstory.” Gwen sat down and began her story. “In a normal cycle, it’d start about 2.3 billion years ago before today. On a planet far, far away, there were aliens calling themselves the ‘Zakochani’, and they were really different from us. At least, I assume so; I’ve only ever seen their eyes.”

“What are their eyes like?”

“Humanoid and three of them. They’re also not as creative as we are. And unlike us, polyamory is normal for them, and they often formed enormous harems.

“Because they couldn’t imagine all of the consequences for their actions, though, the Zakochani ended up in a nuclear war. During this, a 64-Zakochan harem called the Dewiantow were performing an experiment to see what the universe was made of. It failed, and soon after the last bomb dropped, wiping them out.”

I found this incredibly interesting. How Gwen knew this, though, only raised more questions. “But what about the cycle right before ours?”

“Ah, that’s where  _ our _ story starts. In the previous cycle, something went wrong with the strings of fate. Instead of their experiment failing, it succeeded. The Dewiantow ended up with fantastic reality-warping powers that went against the laws of nature themselves. These included immortality and indestructibility, and thus they survived the war. And later on, to the rebirth of time and space itself.”

“But they weren’t supposed to be there, were they?”

Gwen shook her head. “Not at all. When a new cycle begins, everything in the old cycle has to be destroyed first. But the Dewiantow’s powers prevented that. Their presence at the rebirth of the universe caused a paradox. And that paradox spawned the root of many of our problems today. Doug, do you feel like life’s out to get you?”

“All the time!”

“Do you want to know  _ why _ ?”

Wait, there’s an actual  _ reason _ ? “Of course I do!” And why wouldn’t I?

“What was pawned by the paradox is why. It’s called...the Malevolence.” Gwen said its name in an ominous, serious tone. “It’s a force that permeates the universe, and its only goal is to cause suffering.” So it was  _ alive _ ?! “It does this by hijacking the minds of sentient beings and bringing out their worst traits – greed, selfishness, unsubstantiated fear, anger, and so on. The Malevolence can rewrite fate, too, so that whoever it can corrupt more easily will succeed, and those who resist more don’t. In other words, it’s why bad things happen to good people, and vice-versa.”

“I was  _ wondering _ how Trump got elected,” I grumbled. I hated that egomaniacal bigot. He reminded me too much of my father, who I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out  _ he _ had, in fact, voted for him.

Gwen nodded in agreement. “Things like war, hate crimes, discrimination, segregation, abuse, and so on have always existed. The Malevolence just made them more common, and us less likely to do anything. The Dewiantow, once they realized what the Malevolence was, were immediately remorseful for accidentally creating it. They wanted to solve the problem they’d caused, and luckily for us, they found out how.

“They found that some people who had Malevolence in their souls didn’t have it that firmly in, and could be purified. These people are known as Curables, of which I was before I was purified. Once you’re purified, you can’t be corrupted ever again. But the Zakochani’s limited ability to imagine severely limited the breadth of their powers. They couldn’t destroy the Malevolence fast enough to end the suffering of everyone.

“That’s when they discovered that to balance out something evil, the current cycle also spawned something good. A thread of fate that’d never existed before in ANY previous cycle, and thus the only one the Malevolence couldn’t touch. The only soul who couldn’t be corrupted even without prior purification. A being of the most imaginative species that’d ever exist, with a kind heart, high intelligence, and who knew what the suffering the Malevolence caused felt like. A being known only as...The Chosen. And after years of searching, the Dewiantow finally found him:

“You.”

I couldn’t believe it. All my life, I was told I was worthless. But no, it turns out I’m the universe’s greatest hero. So it was the Malevolence who was responsible for pushing me around all this time. And it was hurting everyone for its own amusement. Anger flowed through me; there was no way I wasn’t going to take up the mantle of The Chosen.

“Wow, but just one thing: how does me blowing you fit into this?”

“Well, you need to  _ get _ your powers before you can be The Chosen, obviously. Originally, the Dewiantow thought The Chosen was a girl, and they could give her their powers directly. Then it turned out they’d gotten it wrong and their savior was a boy, forcing them to start the search all over again. For a male Chosen, it turned out, they’d need to get their powers from a reservoir. Someone who could hold the most basic powers like stopping time, teleporting objects, communicating directly with the Zakochani in the dreamscape of the mind,” I took this to be why Gwen knew about this, “and moving things in digital screens. They’d need to be a little quirky, a little ditzy, but know more than they let on. And they’d have to be a futa, because futas are magical.”

“So...you.”

“Me!” Gwen said happily, clapping her hands. She was cute when she was excited. “The male Chosen would need to drink the semen of a true futanari, a girl with both a penis and a vagina. They found out I’d be born intersex anyway, so they made my schmutz more perfect. Still freaked out my parents though, which is why I’m an only child.”

I was a little miffed on hearing this, but decided not to press it. “Anyway, so...are we really going to do this?”

“Yeah, plus I already had a bit of a crush on you...so now that you’ve seen me, it’s time to see you…” Gwen’s erection was back, and she made it even hotter by taking off her bra, revealing her firm breasts. The right one had a hand-shaped birthmark on its outer side.

I stood up with her and disrobed too. I was still a foot man, but seeing a girl’s boobs was still enough to get me hard. “Ooh, not bad, you’re a tad bigger than me,” Gwen said, a little envious.

“I’m...still a little nervous. I mean, I’m straight,” I said as Gwen approached me.

“Doug,” Gwen said firmly, “I identify as female even if I’m technically a third sex altogether. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Just lie back and relax. I know you’re nervous, so I’ll start.” Gwen pushed me onto her bed. It was a lot softer than mine. I put my head against the pillows at the top part, and Gwen placed herself at the foot, propping herself up with a chair to make sure she didn’t accidentally slide off.

Then she leaned down, and...swallowed my cock down to the base.

“Wow,” I breathed, as Gwen bobbed her head up and down, her tongue tongulating against my skin. She was a natural. Her tongue was soft, a little prickly with her tastebuds, but it felt so good. I was impressed with how skilled she was deepthroating me; how’d she learn to do that? She even rolled her tongue out past her lips to lick-tickle the base of my scrotum, and I shuddered.

Gwen momentarily released me and looked up, smiling. “You taste great. And I like that you’re uncircumcised. But it’s a bit weird because your dad’s kinda obsessed with tradition.”

“Thanks. Mom told me  _ he _ wasn’t even there to see my birth, and when  _ he _ got asked the question,  _ he _ freaked out. Too lazy to deal with it, so here I am. I like that you aren’t, either.”

Gwen smiled. “So why don’t you get a little closer?” She got off the foot and turned around. Her butt was now hanging in the air above my head. She lowered herself and resumed sucking my cock.

I gulped. Might as well start with the part I was more comfortable with. Experimentally, I leaned up and licked her vagina. It had a salty, meaty taste, mixed with a buzzy flavor I could only assume was her special scent. The texture of her labia was soft, a little rubbery, and warm. I liked it, so I dove in. Gwen moaned in ecstasy around my penis, clearly enjoying it.

As I continued, though, there was still that annoying throb leaning against my neck. Her cock felt nice and soft, but I still had my reservations.

Breathe in, Doug. It’s just a giant clitoris. It’s just a giant clitoris…

I repeated this mantra internally as I removed myself from Gwen’s pussy. I grabbed her cock with my left hand while my stronger right hand held her up. I moved it closer and experimentally kissed the tip.

It felt...right. I’d never feel comfortable doing this to a guy, but I could do it to a girl.

“Gwen, you taste good,” I said. Somehow, I wasn’t as winded as I should’ve been.

Gwen released me again. “You only really know my pussy. I’ve got both, you– _ Doug _ !” I was tired of waiting and had slurped her into my mouth. She was warm and squishy and it truly felt like a hot dog with a pulse. I was sucking a girl’s cock, and I really liked it.

So did she, for Gwen quickly went back to blowing me, much more eager than before. After a few minutes, my nose buried in her vaginal canal, I felt some unknown organ shudder above the passage to her womb.

Gwen was about to cum.

To our surprise I came before she did, thrusting into her mouth, knocking her chin against my pelvis. It hurt a little when the bones smacked into each other, and I was afraid she’d hold it against me.

Then Gwen came. First from her vagina, covering my face in a slightly sour, watery goo. Then from her cock, filling my mouth. I knew my own semen likely tasted of fish, as that’s what it smelled like; Gwen’s, being made of polar bodies rather than actual sperm, tasted like egg whites.

“Oh, fuck,” Gwen said as she got off of me. She eagerly swallowed my cum; it looked so hot. “I don’t blame you for hurting me, neither of us were ready. But enough of that; drink my cum. You need it.”

I wanted reality-bending powers. They would solve so many problems. I wanted vengeance against the thing that was ruining my life. So I swallowed.

Immediately, I felt an electrical surge flow through my body, which began to glow  green . I felt my eyes glow, too, and then, it stopped. I felt stronger, tougher, better.

Gwen squeaked and bounced up and down. “Well done baby, you’ve got the power!” She kissed me on the cheek. “Let’s test them out, you should have more powers than I do!”

I didn’t know where to start. “Can I do...anything?”

“No, not yet.”

“What do you mean ‘not yet’?”

“Doug, your powers may be dictated by imagination, but they use love as fuel. So to get some of the stronger ones, you’ll need more love. A  _ lot _ of love. And to get the most bang for your buck, you’re going to have to, well, bang.”

“...I have to  _ what _ ?!”

“Listen, I’m not the only girl who’s ever fallen in love with you. There are another sixty-two out there who either have a crush on you or have seen you as a potential boyfriend at least once. To truly become strong enough to eradicate  _ all _ of the Malevolence, you’re going to have to build a harem on par with the Dewiantow of these girls, including me.

“You’ll know who’s a member via a little power called lovecharming. I can’t do it, but you can now. At specific moments, the girls who love you will realize that, and that they’ve wanted to have sex with you. It’s up to you to take care of the rest.”

Hm, now that I think about it, a harem  _ would _ be nice. I’d have a lot of people on my side, helping me stand up against my enemies, especially  _ him _ . Plus, it’d solve my indecisiveness about who to date, because lovecharming would tell me who was right.

“But you can’t tell anyone. Humanity, unlike Zakochanity, has a lot of social stigmas created by the Malevolence. The harem will have to stay secret until it’s time.”

I understood. Only without the enforcer of the things adults were weird about could I truly be myself in public. “Thanks, Gwen. I think I’ll give you…a nice new pencil.” I summoned a pencil from thin air, it emerging from a flash of green and landing on her desk. It took a little effort, though.

“Wow, I’ve never been able to do that! Let’s head downstairs so you can purify someone,” Gwen said. Noticing my expression, she added, “No one will see us, I stopped time before we came here.”

She truly was a wizard.

* * *

We were downstairs. “You sure there’s no chance of accidental voyeurism?” I asked, nervous because we were both naked and still had saliva dripping from our ninglewisers.

“Pretty sure. Though if we’re in luck, some of our, ahem,  _ female _ friends might enjoy the view,” Gwen said. She sounded a little wistful, and it made me wonder if she had a crush on one of the girls in Squad Alpha. Given she was openly bisexual, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch. If said crush was a member of the harem, it’d make things less awkward for me to be having sex with Gwen rather than her partner, but then Gwen would need to learn to share. Of course, she’d thrown in with the whole shebang (heh, she-bang) already, so that might not be a problem.

“What should I do?”

“I was told that people who could purify could feel the Malevolence in people, and how attached to their souls it is. You’ll need to start with someone with relatively low levels of Malevolence in them, because you’re completely new at this.”

Indeed, I could feel something inside of people I could never feel before. A white-hot, fizzling ball of energy, housed in their hearts and attached to their brains by loose filaments: their souls. I could feel something covering their souls, too. It felt gooey and disgusting, like poop did when I wiped myself (I used baby wipes instead of toilet paper because the latter was much too fragile. My father teased me to no end about how “sensitive” my ass was, even though that wasn’t the case at all). This had to be the Malevolence itself.

No one there had it actually embedded  _ in _ their souls, just had it loosely slathered over them, which was good. Still, there was quite a bit in there for many of them. Eventually, I found that Sarah, who was frozen in the middle of a conversation with Josie, had the least Malevolence in her soul of anyone present.

Excluding myself and Gwen, of course. I could tell that Gwen’s soul had already been cleaned up, and my own, unlike the loose, phantasmal souls of the others, was hard and opaque, completely resistant to being corrupted by the Malevolence.

I reached into my mind, thoughts brimming with intent to purify. A cloudy green beam fired out of each of my palms, forwards into Sarah’s soul itself. I felt the beams collect the Malevolence within itself before her soul was squeaky clean, and then, with some effort, I pulled it out of her. The beams yanked upwards, travelling from her heart to her brain, before phasing out of her skull entirely.

I grimaced at my quarry. A roughly acorn-sized,  pale reddish-brown blob, which seemed to bristle with hatred, and make me hate it just looking at it, was embedded in the head of the beams. I noticed it seemed to be the same color as the walls in my house, and my father’s eyes.

“This it?” I asked.

Gwen nodded. “Now destroy it.”

I focused all my energy on the blob.  _ This is for ruining my life. _ The beams tightened. Gwen had said it’d be hard right now since my powers were young; perhaps it’d be easier when my harem had more than one person in it? I clenched my teeth as I struggled.

Slowly, the blob began to burn. It turned pink, then white as it lit up. Then, the light subsided. The once-pliable Malevolence blob started to harden, turning green as it did. Then it crumbled into nothingness.

I’d done it.

“But what about Sarah? Won’t she be irreversibly changed?” I asked.

“Depends. Purification only makes reform  _ possible _ , not certain. Sarah has to make that choice herself. Besides, given how little she had in her, she might not even notice anything different about herself.” Gwen then got closer towards me, and began to whisper into my ear seductively. “I think we better head upstairs so I can properly reward you.”

That could only mean one thing.

* * *

“I’ve never had sex before. Not vaginal, I mean,” I said in Gwen’s room. I’d had oral just a little bit before, from the same girl, in fact.

“It’s fine, just let me on you. We could worship each other’s feet while we do it, if it’d make you feel any better,” Gwen replied.

“I would. I’ve been wanting to lick your feet since we met.” Gwen had been wearing Birkenstocks then too, Gizeh with brown straps that time, and I’d fantasized about her letting me kiss her light pink-painted toes.

Normally I’d never admit to something like this, but Gwen was open-minded, had a foot fetish of her own, and I was about to lose my virginity to her. What did I have to lose at this point?

“Flatterer,” Gwen chuckled. She positioned herself so we were facing each other. My cock brushed against hers. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

I pushed forwards. We both gasped. I never thought her vagina would feel as good as it did, but it did.

Then came the next part: the foot worship. Gwen placed her feet on my face, and I wasted no time in licking her soles and sucking her toes. They tasted like pure sunshine. She made me happy, and I should make her happy.

So I let her do the same for me. It was a little weird at first, but eventually my hormones calmed me down and told me to just go with it. She was really good at it too. It figured; I had no practice, but she’d obviously done this on herself countless times.

Then, a few minutes later, it finally hit me: was that the same reason she was so good at blowing me? “Uh, Gwen? I have to ask...when you were sucking me off.”

“What about it? Do you want me to change how I do it?” she asked literally underfoot.

“No, I’m asking how you learned to do it. Did you have a boyfriend at some point?”

“...No. You’re my first partner. You...wouldn’t want to see how I learned.”

Gwen was always sensitive about being seen as weird. I never minded, figuring life was too short to worry about trivial bullshit (my father thought otherwise and made sure I knew it), but people talked about her behind her back, whispering about how she’d never be normal.

However, I was The Chosen. The master of the Magnum Harem (wow, that title sounded  _ awesome _ ). It was my responsibility to look after my girls.

“I do, actually. Gwen, I know people think you’re weird, but…”

I changed position by getting on top of her, never pulling out once. I slammed into her. I quickly reached my limit and came into her vagina. I was no longer a virgin nerd; now I was just a nerd.

“I love you anyway.” Then I kissed her passionately. Her face afterwards was so touching.

Gwen was clearly very relaxed now. “Then you’re gonna have to change position...um, can you give me anal?”

“Hm...would it hurt you?”

“I don’t think so. I mean, you’ve cum in my mouth and my pussy, and I’m not big enough to reach my own ass–”

“Well, then the next major issue is hygiene. I mean, don’t get me wrong, your ass  _ is _ amazing, but I have reservations about fucking the same hole poop comes out of. What if I get sick? That’ll be hard to explain.”

Gwen nodded solemnly. “Alright...but I really wanted to do it…” She was sad.

Then I got an idea. “On second thought, maybe I  _ can _ hangle your heiny after all.”

“...Hangle?”

“I have the strangest diction evah, okay?” I used my powers to destroy all the fecal matter Gwen had inside her, all the way up to her ileocecal valve where her small intestine became large, and sterilized her entire rectum all the way to the sigmoid flexure. “There. Your butt’s clean now.”

“I feel a little empty in there...what did you  _ do _ ?”

“Lasered your poop.”

“Wow, good thinking.”

“Thanks. Ready?”

“When you are.” Gwen slowly began rubbing her rock-hard penis as I flipped her onto her back, her butt sticking straight up in the air. It truly was a glorious ass. Years of playing soccer did that to a woman, it seemed. Then I sat down, my cock pressing into her anus. It was tighter and grittier than her vagina had been. Good, but I think I’ll still prefer vaginal sex.

“Oh, that feels nice,” Gwen breathed. Her eyes were completely filled with lust. “Let me show you another fetish of mine, Doug. Don’t. Tell.  _ Anyone. _ ”

She lowered her hips closer to her head. I always knew she was flexible, but  _ damn _ . She inched closer and closer, licking her lips hungrily as she eyed her cock, which seemed to be even stiffer than ever.

My suspicions about how she learned to blow so well were confirmed when she greedily sucked her own cock into her mouth.

She looked so sexy doing it, this kink that I’d never even heard of. Her thick, naturally-reddish lips wrapped around her meatstick like a glove, and she made cute little slurping noises as she blew herself.

I of course decided to help, so I began pumping up and down into her ass. To make things even more sensual for her, I hooked my bare feet between her hips and torso and used them to massage her breasts. Gwen really liked it, as I could tell by her increasingly red face and faster-beating heart.

“Yeah…” I cooed. “Keep it up, cutie…”

I really meant it. Gwen was adorable in every way. And I was so happy that she’d done more than just tell me I didn’t have to kill myself. She told me that I mattered to  _ everyone _ in the biggest possible way. Not just to all humans, but  _ everything _ that had a mind of its own.

And she let me know how much I mattered to her by letting me be intimate with her in ways I never thought I’d be allowed to.

I loved this girl.

But she would not be the last girl to know my touch. No, she was just the beginning. And she’d accepted that.

After many minutes of this, Gwen was no longer able to keep it up. She erupted into her own mouth, as I did into her ass. We disentangled ourselves and lay next to each other.

I noticed her load, spilling out from her lips, was bigger than mine was trickling from her ass. Obviously, she hadn’t cummed from me fucking her vaginally.

I used my powers to clean off myself; we were probably going to have another go and I didn’t want her getting sick, either. One could never be too safe around poop. “You are a messy eater,” I teased.

Gwen wiped her lips and stuck her tongue out at me. I fought the temptation to kiss it. “Watch it. Keep this up and I might fuck  _ your _ ass.”

I blinked. At this point, though, I didn’t really care. Besides, cock or not, she was still a girl. She said so herself.

“Is that a proposal?”

“Order, more like.”

Damn, she had a dominant side. Guess she wanted to pay me out for what I did to her. I cleaned out my butt the same way I did for her. “Well, then do it. Time may be stopped but I don’t have all day. Also, what was that thing you just did?”

“Self-sucking. Autofellatio. Only a few guys can do it, and even fewer girls. I learned about it while searching for some decent transgirl porn.”

“You masturbate to that?” It was less accusation and more curiosity.

“Hey, a chick with a dick’s got the best of both worlds regardless of whether she started as a guy. Seriously, do you have  _ any _ idea how hard wiping your ass is when you have a vagina?”

“Very hard?”

“Yeah. You have to be really super careful not to give yourself PID. Now, speaking of hard, it’s time I  _ wipe out _ in your butthole. Need lube?”

“Lube is for chumps.”

“ _ That’s _ the reason I fell for ya,” Gwen smirked. Her cock hard again, she sat on the edge of her bed and motioned for me to sit on her lap. As I did, she directed her cock into my anus. It hurt a little initially, but I quickly adjusted. Another rare skill I had.

Gwen took my cock into her hands and began to roll it between her palms while she pounded me. “Kiss me, Doug; I want your love!”

I turned my head and did as I was told. We made out fervently, tongues intertwining. I could taste the eggy flavor of her semen still in her mouth.

I’d learned two things from all this. One, how Gwen’s body was so different from a normal girl’s. She had a penis and a vagina, was flexible enough to masturbate the ultimate way, had grown her wisdom teeth early and still had them. Two, how much I was worth it.

To the world.

To Gwen.

To myself.

It was enough to make me shiver with delight.

Or maybe that was from Gwen’s Sword of the Stone lightly grazing my prostate.

Did Gwen have a prostate too? How her genitals actually  _ worked _ was still a mystery to me.

But it soon didn’t matter, because Gwen eventually erupted into my ass, and I jizzed onto her hands. I popped off of her, and while I recovered my eyesight I noticed Gwen rubbing my semen into her tits. “Hey, it’s the world’s cheapest lotion,” she grinned, shrugging.

“There’s still one place that needs it, though.”

“Oh?” I pointed to her feet. “Aww, you just can’t let me be until I give you a footjob, can you? Well, not like I didn’t want you to.” Gwen lifted her feet and wiggled her toes. She’d already figured out what pressed my sexual buttons of sexualness. And I loved it. “Go crazy, Doug.”

“You might want to take off your anklet, I don’t want to get it dirty.”

“You didn’t ask me to take off my toe ring when you worshipped my feet, though.”

“I wasn’t worried about choking on that. But if your anklet gets jizzed on, people will  _ notice _ .”

“Right, right.” And we did NOT want to get caught. Gwen untied the back of the anklet and slipped it off, placing it with her other clothes. I did the same cleaning process on her penis I’d done for mine, in case she wanted to blow herself again. I grabbed the chair from behind her bed and moved it to under my butt.

I couldn’t believe it. I was about to fulfill my type of foot fetishist’s ultimate fantasy: getting a footjob from a cute girl with big, beautiful feet. And the best part? She was into it too.

I lowered her feet and put my cock between them. Then she did the rest, pumping up and down with her muscular legs, using her toes like fingers to help stimulate it further. It was amazinger than I’d ever dreamed it’d be.

Literotica™ had  _ nothing _ on real life.

Gwen was blushing profusely again. “Aww, what’s wrong?” I asked.

“I want to play with myself, but I don’t know how you’ll react,” she replied, nervous.

“Gwen, I saw you blow yourself. What could be weirder than that?”

She responded by taking her semi-hard cock, bending it, and inserting it into her vagina. Immediately she cried out in pleasure as she immediately went full-hardon, her face even redder than before. At this rate, she was going to become a tomato. A very sexy tomato, too.

“Oh.” I shrugged. “Well, at least you can’t get yourself pregnant. Right?”

“No, I can,” Gwen’s strained reply was. “But preventing pregnancy is another of the basic powers I have.”

“Hm. I don’t think I’d have much use for that one.”

“Your ability regarding pregnancy is to stop  _ others _ from getting pregnant by you.”

How we were able to talk without being winded was weird, and I definitely needed to pay a little visit to the Zakochani that night in my dreams to answer some of my questions.

“Alright. Gwen, remember, I just want you to feel good. But by the looks of it, you’re taking care of that yourself. So why don’t I just help you with that?” I took over the footjob, standing up and pumping myself between Gwen’s feet. She appreciated that.

Time passed (well, not really for anyone else. How did stopping time work, anyway?). I grew hotter and hotter. So did my newfound lover. “Gwen, I’m gonna cum.”

“Me too. Count of three?”

I nodded weakly.

One.

Two.

Three!

I exploded onto Gwen’s feet, draping white cum over her pretty red toenails. I don’t know how I’d managed it, but it’d taken five unloadings to spend me. Gwen came into herself, shuddering and twitching until her last orgasm subsided.

Gwen looked at her feet and licked her lips. She raised them to her mouth and worshipped them clean, making sure not a drop of sperm went unconsumed. When done, she smiled at me. “Guess I should restart time then, ‘cuz I froze it before we came up here.” We figured to stay in her room to make it look like we’d talked when time was passing by normally. With a wave of her hand, and a yellow flash, I felt the world resume.

Quickly, I used my powers to dress us. I ended up with everything back on that I’d taken off in her room. As did Gwen; underwear, anklet, and dress. Well, almost everything; her socks stayed off. “Um, Doug? What about my socks?”

“Uh, if it’s not too much trouble, could you...not wear them?”

“You perv,” she chuckled, lightly swatting my arm. Then she bit her lip in thought. “Though you have a point, it’s much too hot for socks.”

“So...have you always had your powers, or did they start showing up later?” I asked out of curiosity.

“They started coming on when I was nine. I was frightened because back then, I didn’t know all that I could do. The Zakochani started talking to me around the same time, explaining everything that I know now. It was a little hard to take in at first, especially because they’re not human and had a harder time explaining it so I could understand it. But eventually, I came to terms with it.”

“And I’ll always be thankful for that,” I said, pecking her forehead, which was a little difficult because she’s taller than me. “So, what if I purify someone in real time?”

“Purification is only visible if you want it to be.” Gwen pursed her lips. “Y’know, how are we going to resist the temptation to tell everyone?”

“The same way my father tried to keep me from watching Schindler’s List. A restriction.” I simply thought, and it happened. “There. Now we can only talk about harem stuff when only harem members are in the room or earshot.”

“Good,” Gwen said. “And Doug?”

“Yeah?”

“If there’s anything else at home that’s bothering you, please talk to me about it, alright?”

“I’ll try.”

* * *

We walked downstairs together. “About time you guys came back,” Cameron-kun said on seeing us. “What exactly were you doing up there? You’re missing making fun of this crap movie.”

“Were you two having fun?” Ted asked, wiggling his eyebrows deviously.

“N-no!” I stammered.

“Doug was just really bothered about yesterday, so I wanted to talk to him about it,” Gwen replied. It was partly true, so it felt okay.

“Oh,” Ted’s expression softened. “Well, can’t blame her for that.”

Another person who I hadn’t mentioned, the eagle-eyed, red-haired Debbie, noticed Gwen’s change in footwear. “Uh, Gwen? Weren’t you wearing socks before you went up with Doug?”

“My feet got hot and sweaty, so I removed them,” Gwen replied, smiling a little nervously. That part was also true. Though it wasn’t the sun which had heated them up. Luckily, Debbie bought it and turned away.

“Oh, I feel you, my own are really uncomfortable,” Katie winced. She rarely ever wore sandals, so it was easy to see why. “Matter of fact…”

I’d felt the Malevolence in Katie’s soul was the major reason for her impulsiveness. I’d probably purify her in a while, but she’d need to learn to control her urges herself. Right now, they were making her remove her socks.

Not that I didn’t mind. Despite rarely ever having her feet out, Katie took good care of them. Her toenails were well-pedicured and painted maroon that day, and I saw the subtle glint of the toe ring on the second toe of her right foot.

What was not as subtle was the strong smell. Immediately, Cameron-kun, Isaac, Ted, Johnny, Caroline, Debbie, and two other people I hadn’t mentioned, Eric and Natalie, passed out.

I noticed that Gwen, Josie, Kyla, Sarah, and Katie herself were still up. I wondered if that meant anything.

Then I heard a car horn outside. It could only be one thing. “Sorry guys, I’ve gotta go.”

“The smell’s not THAT bad!” Katie replied, mock offended. She knew about my foot fetish, and of Gwen’s, so I doubt she was surprised we were alright.

“No, it’s not. The smell’s not bothering me too much.” Odd, considering my sense of smell, like all my senses, was abnormally powerful due to autism. “And your nails are nice, you should wear sandals more often.”

“Thanks, but I don’t know about sandals…”

“Not that I don’t like your nails either,” I said to Kyla and Josie. I noticed through the fabric of the latter’s socks that her toenails were most likely the same brown as her fingernails. They both smiled a little. “It’s my father,” I explained. “He’s here to take me back home.”

“Oh,” Katie said. She frowned. “I feel for ya, buddy. Hope you get home alright.”

“Bye Doug!” The five girls still standing waved to me as I left.

* * *

The rest of the day was not as interesting. My father needled me about every detail there; I was careful not to give too many names, because  _ he’d _ never let me live it down if I did. I told  _ him _ Gwen had invited me to comfort me, and  _ he _ had scoffed in disbelief. Mom thought it was very sweet of Gwen to do so, however.

That night at dinner,  _ he _ stole half of my lasagna, breaking it off mine with  _ his _ fat, grubby paws. I’d asked about the college program thing, which had quickly been shot down for lame reasons. I looked at Mom knowingly; she rolled her eyes. Apparently  _ he _ had almost gotten them killed by Alvin via  _ his _ stupidity, and Mom had decided she was fed up with  _ his _ reckless behavior. It was a stunning change to see her assert herself more, but a welcome one.

Eventually, at 10:30, I lay in bed. “‘Night, Blorb,” I said to the plushy, before falling asleep...

* * *

Or did I?

I found myself in a void within my mind I’d never seen before. Must be the dreamscape Gwen mentioned. The floor was dark gray. I walked forwards.

No.  _ Flew _ forwards. Dafuq? I soon got my answer when I saw a reflective wall. I was just my eyes. Not even in three dimensions, either; I was a flat pair of eyes, like my drawings made real life.

“This is for your protection. I will explain everything,” came a deep, booming, yet surprisingly feminine voice. I turned around. In front of me was a set of three eyes adorned with mascara. The irises were a bluish-purple color, and each eye was much bigger than my own. How big were their owners, then?!

“Greetings, Chosen,” the eyes told me, cordial and casual.  “I am Cataluka Dewiantow, harem master of the Dewiantow clan. Together with my mates, I am the last of the Zakochani in existence.”

“The last?” I asked. “That doesn’t sound right. Shouldn’t you have been rebirthed in this cycle?”

“We would have,” Cataluka replied, angrier this time,  “were it not for Paskuda.”

“What?”

“The Malevolence. ‘Paskuda’ is our name for it. Our actual language cannot be understood by your human ears, nor spoken with your vocal cords. We use Polish as an intermediary between it and English, as Polish and Jezyk have similar grammar.

“Back to our origins. Zakochani are genetically-modified organisms, synthesized by a previous species called the Przodkowie. Our inclination towards polyamory is because we were intended for sexual slavery. Unfortunately for them, we were immune to a virus they weren’t, and wound up inheriting their civilization.

“Paskuda knew that if it happened in this timeline, we would find ourselves and grant more of us our powers. So it created a severe social stigma against genetic modification in the Przodkowie, not unlike your own.”

“Well, ours is a lot dumber, which is a meganormous understatement, but I think making living dildos actually  _ is _ a worthy ethical issue,” I pointed out.

“Perhaps. The plan worked, and the original creator of the Zakochani was burned at the stake when his preliminary experiments on genetically-modified microbes was revealed. The Zakochani, an entire species of thinking, sentient beings, erased from history.” A few tears streaked out of her alien eyes; they were pink in color, and I involuntarily stepped, er, floated, back. Dream world or not, I didn’t want to find out why they were pink the hard way.  “Then, the virus proceeded to destroy our creators, leaving our planet without a sentient species.”

She looked at me and spoke with complete seriousness.  “This, Chosen, is why you are so important. In its quest to cause suffering, Paskuda silences many voices. Your destiny is to destroy it in its entirety, so that the silencing can stop.”

It was all coming together now. The Malevolence wanted its fun in the form of exterminating innocents by the billions, and I was in the way. That’s why it tried to kill me.

“However, when it prevented us from existing, it made us realize that species with stronger imaginations attracted more Paskuda. Logically, The Chosen would be found on the planet with the greatest concentration of it in the universe. We found Earth when your kind was still young, and waited patiently until the time was right to start our search.”

I had other questions, though. “How does the Malevolence make people do bad things?”

“It does not make them evil, as its name would suggest. Rather, it makes them irrational. The power of dreams will show you.”

Cataluka summoned a dark gray three-way balance, which looked like Libra with a birth defect.  “This scale represents the soul. There are three appeals, which you may have learned in your language class. These appeals influence the actions, personality, and alignment of a sentient being.

“The first is logos, the appeal to Logic.” The first plate-thing got an object that tipped the scales its way. It was a hard, glasslike object, a trapped piece of golden light inside of it. I noticed her capitalize its name when she spoke; her kind might’ve revered them as gods back when they had a religion. Before seeing the universe be reborn without gods would’ve disproven that.

“The second is ethos, the appeal to Morals.” The second plate got a thing, and the scale wasn’t so unbalanced then. It looked like water, a light cyan fluid dynamically churning and sloshing, never leaving the confines of a tiny little ball.

“And the third is pathos, the appeal to Feelings.” Now the scales were balanced. A small, reddish-pink thing, an eyeless bulb with five legs and a snapping, toothy mouth, raced around the plate. It saw me (how that was possible without eyes, I don’t know), roared a surprisingly tremendous noise, and resumed its course.

“The balance of the three will change depending on the situation, but over the course of the being’s life, the average will be total, perfect balance between them. At least, that’s how it was in every cycle before this one.” We stared at the scale a little while longer.

“But that’s not how it is in the current cycle. Look at what Paskuda does to the soul.” The slimy, pus-like villain bubbled from the floor. It formed a mass of tendrils, like a twenty-one-fingered, circular hand, then grabbed the plate Feelings was on. It pulled it down, closer to the floor. Feelings became more erratic, faster, and louder.

“The other appeals can fight the imbalance,” Cataluka added, and I saw Logic and Morals both pull against the Malevolence,  “and some souls are able to resist major levels of corruption.” When she said this, the Malevolence shrank, weakening as it did and the plate rose higher, Feelings calming down.  “But no matter what, Feelings will always dominate. And Feelings is irrational, thus the being in possession of this soul becomes more irrational. Thus, more likely to think only for themselves rather than others.”

And that led to a likelier chance of being evil. “We’re not like that, are we?” I asked.

“No. We Zakochani existed before this cycle, so we are not bound to its rules. And your soul is impermeable, since you didn’t exist in any cycle before this one.” To show me my own soul, the scale grew taller. The Malevolence tried to reach it, but wasn’t able to. I swore I saw Morals form a tongue and give the Malevolence a raspberry. Then the scale disappeared.

“So what makes a Curable curable?” I asked. It’d bothered me that there was a distinction.

“Timing. Curables are corrupted after birth. Their soul has finished forming, so Paskuda can only sit on top of it. Incurables are corrupted before birth, when their soul is still forming its layers. Paskuda piles on top of a layer and gets trapped under the next one. To this date, no one has been strong enough to cure an Incurable, to penetrate into the soul itself. Though I personally hope you might one day,” she added.

“Should I worry?”

“Not too much, I don’t think. Incurables are rarer than Curables and easier to spot. However, some Incurables should be tread carefully around. They are called Sluguschov, Slugus being the singular. They know of our story, and the Malevolence has convinced them that they will get spectacular prizes should they prevent you from reaching your destiny. Sluguschov are rare, with the first on Earth only appearing in the past century of yours,”  [I guessed the specification of whose century she was talking about meant the Zakochan year was a different length from the human one] “but they are incredibly persistent. I recommend that you avoid them, for they  _ will _ try to kill you.”

I shuddered. “Was Alvin?”

“No, he was just an Incurable. We are lucky that for now, Paskuda doesn’t know you have your powers. And it not knowing something else is why you are just your eyes, why your voice is distorted, and why you cannot say your own name.”

It was then that I noticed that my voice was autotuned, and I sounded like a robot. “My name is [kshdskjdfalsifjlakdjlka],” I said. I definitely said my name, but all that came out was static.

“Why?” I asked. “Why is there this restriction in my own head?”

“This part of the dreamscape is not your head,” Cataluka replied sternly.  “It is that of everyone with reality-bending powers.” Then she softened.  “Chosen, did Gwen mention that we originally believed you to be a female?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Did she tell you that to give a female Chosen our powers, she would get them directly?”

“You’re getting at something. Did you do something stupid?”

Cataluka sighed.  “She was...a mistake, initially. We’d located a girl very similar to you in personality and intellect. She’s even got the same social communication disability you are afflicted with. She wasn’t even born yet, but we were desperate. We gave her Very High-level powers. She would be strong as soon as she was born.

“But when she was born, we found the Malevolence was able to stick to her soul. She was not The Chosen. The real Chosen was of the opposite sex.” She hadn’t considered a male Chosen was possible. This must be the lack of imagination thing Gwen had mentioned the Zakochani had compared to us.  “We purified her, though, and kept an eye on her.

“The reason I am just my eyes is because my full appearance is quite different from your own. I don’t want to run the risk of frightening you.”

“Pfft. Please. Need I remind you that I had sex with a real-life futa midday today?” I asked. If I had hands in this piece of reality, I’d be opening them.

“Why you are just your eyes is for her own safety. Paskuda knows who  _ you _ are. That’s why it’s been able to exhibit such control over your life. However, it is short-sighted, and does not recognize its actions have only made you stronger.

“The girl, meanwhile, is unknown to it. Were her true identity known to Paskuda, though, it’d easily kill her. She has not developed her own immortality, not yet at least. For now, only her eyes are safe for you to see. She must not learn your name, as you hers, nor must you know each other’s true voices. The time the two of you will meet outside of the dreamscape is not now.”

“But  _ who _ is she?!” I asked, incredulous.

Cataluka began levitating away. As she did, she revealed who this mysterious person was:

“She is the most powerful being in the universe at the moment. She is The Lover, one whose purpose it is to help you control your powers and act as a guide to you.

“And when the time is correct, she will become the sixty-third and final member inducted into your harem.

“For she is your true love.” Then she disappeared.

“Wait, doesn’t polyamory kinda preclude the idea of just  _ one _ true love?” I asked myself.

Suddenly, I heard a noise. Almost like someone had been kicked out of a plane, and was screaming a loud skuh-reech as they fell to the ground.

I looked up. A small shape appeared above me, rapidly descending. I tried to move away, but the dreamscape held me fast in my place.

_ BAM! _

The thing hit me head-on, breaking the floor and sending me down into a cavern. I shook myself off, immediately noticing my surroundings. It was light purply-pink, sorta like liquid Tylenol™ in color. White, ghostly hearts floated around me.

And then I saw... _ her. _

She was just her eyes, as Cataluka had said, though hers were less pointy-uppy than mine. She was also wearing mascara. Currently, her eyes were closed as she shook herself clean of dust, the black lids drawn tight.

When she opened her eyes, I was surprised to find they were a bright, delicious-looking orange color. She noticed me, and looked away shyly.

“...Hi,” she said nervously. Although her voice was altered, I could immediately tell that in real life, her voice was soft and meek. Classic dandere.

“Hi,” I said, getting closer. “I like your eyes. I’ve never seen someone with those color irises.”

“Y-you...like them?” I could hear her blush. Zakochan (as an atheist, I had no god, but I did have freaky aliens), she was cute. “N-no one’s ever said they like my eyes. They normally just make fun of me for being...strange.”

“I know what that’s like,” I replied. “But I promise you, I will never,  _ ever _ bully you.”

She relaxed. “My mom has orange eyes, too, that’s why I have them. Both of my parents are doctors, so they told me they know I shouldn’t worry. It’s nothing...deadly.”

“Your parents are doctors too? So’s my mom!”

“What about your dad?”

“He’s a professional parasite. Whatever job he  _ used _ to have, he never fully explained it to me.” I grunted, cross.

“Rough day?” she asked, sympathetically.

“I have had the longest-ass two days so far. I kicked ass, got yelled at by an ass, and today I fucked an ass and got mine fucked in exchange by a blonde futanari soccer player.”

“Ooh, that last part’s so kinky! Me likey,” she purred, and I swore I heard her lick her lips. Then she saw my bewildered expression and got a little flustered. “I’m a bi-curious lesbian, so I’m not gonna have any problem with sharing you.” Well, that was good to know.

“Well, as much as I’d like to recount my erotic adventures, I’m a little tired,” I sighed. It was true, all these revelations were hurting my head.

Suddenly, I felt something press against me. I saw her nuzzling against me. “Cuddling works for me, for today. You can tell me more tomorrow.”

“Of course, my love.” We stayed like that for the rest of the night.

Gwen and this new girl were just two of many loves I had. I’d have to find them all, but I would eventually. Because nothing was ever, no,  _ evah _ , going to be the same again.

It was going to be a whole lot better.

* * *

Wow, what a bunch of steamy scenes! Not bad writing considering it came (pun unintended...maybe) from a virgin, huh?

So Doug’s got powers and has met an alien. Now what? Stay tuned to find out…

And please give me your lovely reviews! I’ll respond like so:

**Person:** Does Doug even need a harem?

Yes.


	3. Gingers Need Love, Damnit!

September 3, 2019 AD.

Kikehuwet, Delaware.

Doug Vision

“I am NOT ready for school,” I grumbled. It was early in the morning, before I had to get up, end summer vacation, and resume...responsibility. I was in the dreamscape, of course.

“Look on the bright side. At least now you can begin finding the rest of your girls,” DTL said. I’d needed to call her something, so I came up with DTL, short for “Da True Love”. Well, actually it was “ _ Doug’s _ True Love”, but she couldn’t know my name. Hopefully the “D” would give her some clues. In turn, she called me MC, short for “My Chosen”.

We’d talked a lot over the last few days, and I was surprised by how much we had in common. TV shows, books, knowledge, fetishes, the usual stuff. As Cataluka had said, she was even a high-functioning Aspie, though DTL was noticeably a little more mature than me. I liked this, because it meant that I’d have someone who knew exactly what my issues were, but could possibly explain them better than I could. Of course, DTL was also quite shy, but I’d gotten her to open up at least a little bit.

I couldn’t know exactly where she lived, but she was at least able to tell me her hometown, as I my own. She lived in Chelsea, Maine, which I found has less than 3000 people. Predominately white Catholics. She was an atheist for sure, and although she couldn’t tell me her exact race or racial mix, how quickly she talked ill of white American stupidness made me suspect she wasn’t white, or at the very least French or whatever grew in Maine. Whatever she was, she was lonely, and I understood her turmoil and gave her as much love as I could. She needed mine as much as I needed hers.

I’d learned so much more about other things, too. Like why I could talk while fucking, and why it took so long for Gwen to drain me; my stamina was increased  _ dramatically _ because of my powers. And other things about the universe. Which were too big and complicated and made my head hurt to think about right now.

“Yeah, you’re right. Can’t wait to see who’s next,” I said. “Bye babe.”

“You too.” We nuzzled one last time.

The alarm set on my phone rang. I dropped through the floor of the dreamscape and into real life again.

* * *

“Ah, Doug! First one back to school as usual,” Dr. Gavin chuckled as I entered the otherwise vacant classroom. Dr. Gavin was my homeroom teacher; he taught 11th-grade AP Physics Mechanics, meaning I’d be having him this time. He was an elderly man, African-American with clumps of bouncy silver hair framing his otherwise smooth head. His eyes were warm and kind.

“Of course I am,” I replied.

“Your schedule’s at your table,” he added, pointing to one of many black lab tables that occupied the floor. The one I sat at was in the front, and unlike the others, which sat two people normally, I was alone.

If DTL ever moved to Kikehuwet, she’d be the perfect one for the other, empty seat.

I sat down and picked up my schedule while Dr. Gavin left for some official teacher business junk I didn’t understand (yet). This is what my schedule read:

**Time**

| 

**Monday**

| 

**Tuesday**

| 

**Wednesday**

| 

**Thursday**

| 

**Friday**  
  
---|---|---|---|---|---  
  
8:00 – 8:10

| 

Homeroom

Dr. Julius Gavin

Room 222  
  
8:15 – 9:00

| 

Social Studies 3 Honors

Mabel Theresa

Room 328  
  
9:05 – 9:50

| 

Trigonometry Honors

Linus Calloway

Room 215  
  
9:55 – 10:40

| 

Special Education

Raul Parson  


Room 108

| 

Free

:D

| 

Gym

Gym staff

Gym (Room 2)

| 

Special Education

Raul Parson

Room 108

| 

Free

:D  
  
10:45 – 11:30

| 

AP Physics Mechanics

Dr. Julius Gavin

Room 222  
  
11:30 – 12:30

| 

Lunch  
  
12:35 – 1:10

| 

Spanish 3 Honors

Esperanza Yuna

Room 137  
  
1:15 – 2:00

| 

Free

:D

| 

Computer Design Honors

Janet Chowdhury

Room 125

| 

Free

:D

| 

Free

:D

| 

Computer Design Honors

Janet Chowdhury

Room 125  
  
2:05 – 2:50

| 

English 3 Honors

Karl Lennon

Room 305  
  
“Wow, you’ve got a pretty full load.”

I bolted upright in fear before realizing what had happened. “Lilah! Don’t  _ do _ that!” I exclaimed. Behind me was a brown-eyed, orange-haired white girl, 5’4”, freckles dotting her face and limbs, her fingernails unpainted. She wore a light blue t-shirt with thin white stripes, khaki short shorts, and white sneakers with purple socks on her size 7 ½ feet. This was Lilah.

She laughed. “Hey, I’m just messing with you, dude. Looks like we’ve got math together, so prepare your buns.”

“But have  _ you _ prepared  _ yours _ ?” I asked cheekily.

She slapped her ass. “Yep, I’m pretty sure!” We laughed.

Lilah was one of my best friends. Not  _ her _ absolute best, though; that honor went to Carly and Bridgette, two girls who she’d known since third grade; together, they made up the Triad, one of the most influential cliques at our school. That I’d even gotten to the point of being one of their closest allies was, well, fascinating.

And I definitely had a little bit of a crush on her.

“You have  _ got _ to be kidding me,” a new voice, husky and cross, glowered.

“Oh, lighten up, Suyin,” Lilah tsked, rolling her eyes as she made her way to her seat. “Have a sense of humor for once.”

“I  _ do _ have one, it just isn’t  _ yours _ .” Suyin stalked off back to her spot in the back of the classroom.

Suyin was a Squad member, Gamma instead of Alpha. She’d immigrated to the US from China at age twelve (somehow, she lacked an accent and spoke English perfectly) and had been a permanent fixture in our lives ever since. Grumpy and cynical, she nonetheless tried to be social, in her own way.

Right now, Suyin was wearing a white t-shirt and a black skirt that went well with her brown hair, and black Dexflex Claire flats on her size 7 ½ feet. Her fingernails were a light green the color of a luna moth’s wings; I didn’t know the color of her toenails, but given she was wearing flats without socks I hoped to be privy to some shoeplay. That is, assuming I’d sit behind her in one of my classes.

“Hey Doug!” another voice chirped. More people were filling in, male and female; most of them paid no mind to me (and given the size of my advisory, that was a lot of minds I didn’t earn). But this one did, and she planted herself right in front of me, enormous grin plastered on her face.

Querida. Small in size at 5’3”, but big in personality and kindness. Not officially a Triad member, but she hung out with them a lot. Enough for me to denote her and others who did so one of the Triad’s “Acolytes”. The first time I’d uttered the phrase I earned a few weird looks, but they’d cottoned on eventually.

She was wearing a pretty blue sleeveless dress, her platinum blonde hair tied back with a black scrunchie, her lips painted the same lilac purple as her fingernails.

“Hey Carrie,” I said. (Carrie was my nickname for her). “How’s it going?”

“Super! What about you?”

“Not very good. You know that shooting at the Acme a few weeks ago?”

“Yeah,” she shuddered. “It was really scary. Good thing that guy stopped it, though, right?”

“Querida?”

“Yeah?”

“ _ I’m _ that guy. The one who you’ve seen in all the news took the credit for himself.”

She winced. “Ooh, that’s awful! Hope the truth gets out sooner rather than later.”

“Yeah, me too,” I grumbled.

Querida sat in her seat in the table next to mine. Her seatmate, a fellow Aspie named Xavier, hadn’t shown up yet. “Say, I know what’ll cheer you up!” Her voice was lowered to a whisper but hadn’t lost its energy.

“What?”

“My feet!” Querida was the very first person I’d ever revealed my foot fetish to, and she was very open-minded about it. So much so that she didn’t care if I stared. It was just one of the many things I loved about that girl.

Querida turned in her seat to face me and planted her size 7 feet in my lap. The little tease, she  _ knew _ what that’d do to me. She was wearing black gladiator sandals studded with rhinestones, and her toenails were painted a dark blue-green color I quite liked. A thin metal anklet graced her left leg.

“Well?” she smirked. “I can  _ feel _ that you enjoy seeing my pedicure, but I’d like you to  _ say _ it.”

“Uh...I do.”

Querida quietly squeed. “Ohhh, thank you so much!” She turned away as quickly as she’d turned to me, as Xavier was coming into the room followed by Dr. Gavin. I noticed the faint blush on her cheeks; yep, likely a harem member.

The bell rang.

“Okay, everyone, first things first, we have a guest in our company,” Dr. Gavin announced. “I’d like you to meet Cynthia Carmichael, our new student teacher. She’ll be with us until midterms end.”

An unfamiliar woman walked in. She was absolutely gorgeous, so much so that everyone who wasn’t Dr. Gavin blushed fervently, even the straight girls (I swore I saw Alyssa readjust her shirt, even). She was tall, six feet even, with black hair, ivory skin, and royal blue eyes. Her lips were done a luscious, velvety red.

But I had other interests, so I looked down. Down past the light bluish-purple t-shirt that barely held up her massive breasts, down past her light gray shorts and muscular legs. Down at her feet, which were a glorious size 9. Her toenails were painted peach, the same color as her fingernails, and she was wearing midnight blue flip-flops with white stripes in the soles.

More masturbatory fantasies involving her and Querida’s feet tonight, that’s for sure. I wonder if I should find Gwen during lunch today...

“Hey everyone!” Ms. Carmichael exclaimed. “Please call me Cindy. I’m a student at the University of Delaware and I’m looking forward to meeting all of you! If we’re lucky I’ll get hired here in February so we don’t have to part ways.”

“But don’t you need to spend the rest of the year getting your certificate?” a laid-back guy named Adam asked.

“I’m finishing early,” Cindy replied.

“Oh.” He nodded. “Right then.”

* * *

The rest of advisory was a bit of a blur. But when that blur cleared, I followed Lilah upstairs. Both of our classes were on the third floor anyway, so I might as well.

“Doug, personal space,” she said when I got a little too close.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to,” I stammered.

“Dude, I know you didn’t. Quit worrying so much!” She paused. “Sorry, forgot about your dad. Speaking of, how are things at home?”

“Not too good. I swear my father’s become  _ more _ insane after I stopped the shooting. Either it’s because I didn’t  _ kill _ Alvin, or it’s because I didn’t get the credit for beating him. But  _ he _ doesn’t think I  _ deserve _ the credit because I didn’t kill him…”

“Eesh. That IS bad. But hopefully there’s something good. Or rather, some _ one _ .”

Welp, time for the shameless flirting, as the pervy redhead was prone to. “Like who?” I asked cautiously. I couldn’t tell her that I’d lost my virginity to Gwen, much less telepathically chattered with another reality-warper for the last three weeks. So I had to play along.

“Y’know. I mean, I know how you look at Sarah; she hasn’t been dating anyone since Sean moved away.”

“Hm...maybe. She’s nice enough.” We caught up on the landing.

“Oh, and another thing about Sarah you’d be  _ bound _ to love.” She leaned in, her breath on my ear. It was so exhilarating.

“She’s a cocksucker.”

“Is she?” I whispered back, trying to stifle my ensuing boner.

“Oh  _ yeah _ ,” Lilah chuckled, resuming her normal stance to my disappointment. “You didn’t know?”

“Sex lives aren’t exactly something most people tell me about.” But apparently it’s something they tell everyone  _ else _ . How usual.

“Well, she  _ really _ loves oral. She told me so a few days ago. Giving it to a guy more than receiving it, that is. I can see where she’s coming from, but honestly, nothing beats getting eaten out after a long day of the bullshit this school throws at us.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I grinned. If Lilah can flirt with me, then I can certainly deal back.

But Lilah stiffened when I said that. “Uh...I have a boyfriend, Doug.”

“I know that!” Said boyfriend was Drake, a black-haired musician-type kind of guy in the grade above ours. “I meant in general. Assuming I  _ can _ get a date.”

Where’s Gwen when you need her to prove a point?

“Of course you can,” Lilah replied, quick and curt. We reached the top of the stairwell. “See you later.” She left.

I stood there, confused. Did she...hate me?

“Hey Doug,” I heard someone call my name, and for a moment, I wasn’t in my slump anymore.

Eva Issawri. Second of a set of fraternal Egyptian quadruplets, all girls. She was the smart one of them, and could be told apart from her sisters by her tanner skin and bleached-blonde hair, which was starting to grow back into its normal gray-brown at the base. Of course, she and her sisters shared a lot of other things, too, namely height (5’4”), eye color (black), shoe size (8), and cup size (28B). “You headed to 328?”

“I am! Glad to know you’re gonna be with me.”

“Me too, dude.” She smiled.

Eva was a summery type of girl, and she dressed accordingly. She wore a black sleeveless top that exposed her navel, the straps of a dark blue bra only adding a little bit of modesty. Her jorts reached her knee and were ragged at the hem; homemade, I figured. Around her neck was a roughly comma-shaped gold pendant.

But there was something else about Eva I was interested in. For Eva was a barefooter. In the spring and the summer she’d show up in sandals and once inside, kick them off and not put them on again until it was time to go. Unless science or gym came up, but she always had a spare pair of sneakers on hand.

Her toenails were painted maroon that day, complementing the light pink of her fingernails. I saw her shoes of the day, white one-strap slide-on sandals, in her backpack’s water bottle holder.

“Rocking the bare feet, I see,” I said.

“Rocking them indeed,” she nodded, flexing her toes. She and her sisters knew, so there was no point beating around the bush. Plus, Eva liked having someone appreciate her efforts to keep her feet pretty; she’d said so herself. “Like the color?”

“Um, yeah!”

“Oh my god, you two are so gross!” I heard Tessa, the eldest Issawri, gripe as she joined us momentarily. She was wearing a red t-shirt with orange stripes, black short shorts, and black wedge flip-flops. She had a French manicure and a gray pedicure and was clutching her handbag angrily.

“Like  _ you _ wouldn’t want a compliment yourself,” Eva said, gesturing to her sister’s feet.

“Doesn’t mean I’d be so  _ mushy _ about it.”

“I  _ do _ like your pedicure, though,” I said timidly. Tessa turned into a blushing mess and wordlessly walked off.

“Douglas Magnum, you are a laugh riot,” Eva guffawed. “I haven’t seen her that embarrassed in  _ months _ .”

“Thanks, I guess,” I replied, still distracted.

We walked into the classroom together. “What’s shakin’?” Eva asked me, concerned.

“It’s Lilah. I was talking to her earlier, and she was talking to me about dirty gossip–”

“Since when  _ isn’t _ she?”

“At home or at church, I guess. But anyway, when I tried to reclaim lost ground, she got defensive. Is there something wrong? Is it me?”

“Mm,” she nodded. “She’s always been reluctant to admit when she’s got a problem. Especially after what happened with Leona. I still can’t believe that Leona’s one of our best friends one day and literally the next she’s tearing into you!” She sighed. “I really wish I knew what made her act that way.”

Now that I knew the truth about the universe, I had a subtittle suspicion regarding what, or rather,  _ who, _ was behind that.

“But anyway, I do think that you should try to talk to Lilah about it ASAP. There could be some issue that she can’t deal with alone.” She got out her pencil case and a binder before resuming her talk.

“And another thing. Lilah  _ does _ care about you. It may be hard to see, either because of your disorder or because she’s trying to hide it. But she does.”

“I sure hope so,” I replied.

* * *

The rest of social studies was uneventful. Ms. Theresa was a reasonable woman, at least. She gave us our textbooks and told us we had to do a current event for Friday. Standard enough.

The next class I had was trig, and I was a little nervous for that. Not because I hadn’t finished the prerequisite math packet (I’d done so in June), or the hardness of the material (though that did bother me a little). It was because Lilah was there and I thought things were gonna become really, really awkward.

But they didn’t, because our seats were on opposite sides of the room.

Even then, from my vantage point, I could tell that Lilah wasn’t really herself. She wasn’t as bubbly, wasn’t as loud, wasn’t as...happy. Despite my disability I could still tell she was upset about something.

Her movements were slower and more deliberate. Her face lacked its usual excitement and was more serious. No doubt about it, something was bothering her.

But what? This was turning into the strangest investigation evah.

“Doug?”

I jumped back into attention. Mr. Calloway was staring at me intently. “Yes?”

“Would you please come to the board? I’d like to see if you can solve this equation. Rewrite it as a piecewise function.”

“Oh. Sure.” I was pretty sure we were doing something about absolute value functions as I made my way to the board. Sure enough, I came across this:

f(x) = |7x – 5| + 3

And I didn’t know how to do it!

“Uh…” I picked up a red dry-erase marker and thought. It was so frustrating, not knowing it.

But...I couldn’t just break down like the loser I am.

And that’s when I remembered my powers. Powers that could get me out of any trouble without anyone even noticing.

“Oh,  _ this _ is how!” I said.

In a split second, I used my powers to tease every last bit of mathematical data out of the equation. Then I absorbed it, embedded it within my brain, registering it for future use. When done, I had my old aura of understanding back.

“First you find the zeros of the function in the absolute value bars,” I said, writing this:

7x – 5 = 0

7x = 5

x = 5/7

“When x is less than 5/7, the equation in the absolute value bars is a negative version of itself. When x is greater than or equal to 5/7, the function is positive.”

– 7x + 5 when x < 5/7

7x – 5 when x ≥ 5/7

“And then you just add the number outside the bars to the pieces,” I finished. The end result was this:

f(x) = { – 7x + 8 when x < 5/7

{7x – 2 when x ≥ 5/7

Mr. Calloway nodded. “Very good. I hope all of you got that, class, because we’ve got a quiz coming up Monday and this  _ will _ be on it.”

I went back to my desk, satisfied I’d at least not made a fool out of myself.

* * *

_ What Doug did not notice, however, were the astonished looks everyone was giving him. They looked at the board, then back at him. _

_ Why? Simple. For all the years they’d known him, they’d figured things like this would make him upset. Frustrated. Angry at himself for always spacing out. _

_ And yet, here he was, cool and collected. Basking in a new aura, one of confidence and wisdom. Something had happened to change the boy, and although they wouldn’t know exactly what for a long time, they silently, and unknowingly, agreed that this version of Doug was much more preferable. _

_ Especially to one particular classmate. _

_ Hidden in the back of the rows across from Doug’s, Lilah silently looked up, just for a moment, as her gaze shifted to the blue-eyed boy. Her cheeks tinged slightly pink. A single thought escaped her mind: _

My hero...

* * *

Doug Vision

After math, I had a free. I of course wanted to slack off, have fun, not need to be responsible. But how?

“Hm…” I said to myself, alone at my table in the library. “I wonder if what I did in math can be applied elsewhere.” Well, only one way to find out.

I opened my school-issued MacBook Air™ and searched for current events. I found one about some thing that happened in the Philippines. Next, I opened a Word document I’d downloaded from Ms. Theresa’s Canvas that had the format for a current event.

After making sure no one was looking with my powers, I rubbed my hands together and placed them in front of my computer screen. Green light danced from my hands into the computer, slowly whistling and humming.

The screen began to fill with words. I answered every last question in the prompts. Where it happened, what happened, the outside context, my reaction to it. Privately, I hoped  _ he _ wouldn’t think to ask about it, though he’d be screaming at me for having it done when there were “bigger projects” to worry about.

Normally one would realize that I didn’t  _ have _ any big projects right now, per se, but my father  _ hardly _ qualified as normal.

I finished. “Okay, that’s done. Now what else?...”

“Yo, Doug!”

I looked up and smiled. “Hey Ash.” Ash was a senior and honestly one of the few friends I had in that grade. He was African-American and had a friendly attitude about him.

“It’s hanging good, little dude. Hey, I guess you have Theresa? She’s a good one.”

“And the other ones aren’t?” I asked. Legitimately, because I had no clue.

“Not really. I had Mr. Wells and he was dull as  _ fuck _ ,” Ash sighed. “And I’ve heard Ms. Delphin is a pain.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

Then I had another thought. Ash and Drake were in the same advisory, meaning Ash might know something that was happening between him and Lilah, since relationship issues were most likely what were bothering her.

“Ash?”

“What?”

“Do you know anything about what happened with Drake and Lilah?”

“Lilah who?”

I sighed. “His girlfriend. 5’4”, orange hair, freckles, huge perv.”

“Oh, THAT Lilah! Sorry buddy, there’s five in my advisory.” Well, that explained that. “Sorry dude, Drake hasn’t said a peep. Actually, he’s right there; I’ll ask him myself.”

“Thank you.” Drake kinda scared me, to be honest.

Ash left the library to catch up to Drake, who was idling outside. Through the glass walls I could see their interaction. Ash asked some stuff, but Drake didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply got up and left.

Must’ve struckered a nerve right there.

“Sorry man,” Ash sighed when he returned. “He wouldn’t say anything. Don’t know if they had a fight, but I’m guessing they might’ve.”

“Hm...well, it’s a start. Thanks anyway.”

“Seriously though, dude, why are you doing this?”

“Because I noticed that Lilah was upset and I want to help her.”

Ash nodded thoughtfully. “I should go now, I got tutoring to do. But before I go, I gotta tell you one thing:

“You, Doug, are a good kid. Never forget that.”

I smiled. Then I noticed there was a small piece of Malevolence inside him. Very small, comparable to Sarah’s. I stopped time and rewarded Ash by purifying his soul. Then I resumed time and let him go on his way.

Over the summer I’d made a few more attempts to purify. Scarlet’s had been successful. Mom had apparently already been purified (I’d been told the Zakochani randomly purified people every so often). My father, though, had a soul so thoroughly corrupted it was practically  _ made _ of the stuff. Which explained a lot.

Not much I could do until lunch.

* * *

In hindsight, maybe I  _ shouldn’t _ have used my powers, because the rest of my free was filled with boredom.

Then again, I wouldn’t’ve been able to catch up on what the latest Yandere Simulator update was, either, so I guess it all worked out in the end.

I  _ love _ nothing.

I entered the cafeteria. Where were they?...

But first, food. I entered the line, got two burgers (plain, of course), a pear, and a bottle of milk. All of which I downed quite quickly.

“Dude, you’re gonna give yourself reflux,” I heard someone say.

“A necessary sacrifice,” I grumbled, “given this is the only time I can eat  _ normally _ .”

“Right, sorry.”

The person in question was Bridgette, the Triad’s leader. Smart, but a little blunt and occasionally insensitive (not that she could help that, as the Malevolence within her showed). Right now, the 5’6” girl was wearing a white t-shirt with multiple thin purple and blue stripes, dark brown short shorts, and white Vans deck shoes on her size 8 feet. Her fingernails were red.

“Wanna sit with us?” she asked.

“You really want me to?”

“Of course!”

But as we got closer, we saw two people approach. “Well, shit,” Bridgette grumbled, and I cowered behind her.

Leona. Once, she was a close friend of the Triad, and of me. Brash, headstrong, but sweet and caring. The latter two traits, though, were knocked out of her in January of tenth grade. No one knew why. No one knew how (well, I figured she’d gotten a large dose of Malevolence that was now controlling her every action, far more than I could purify at the moment). All we knew is that she suddenly began bullying us. First me, then when I refused to go near them out of fear, she turned on her old friends. It’d cost her their friendship, and we were adversaries ever since.

Behind Leona was Diane. Like Querida, she was a native-born Mexican. Unlike Querida, she was a bitch. I’d never liked Diane very much, and privately I regarded her as the reason Leona had turned on us.

“And you’re here because?...” Lilah asked bluntly.

“Because I felt like it,” Leona replied. She lowered her glare. “And you don’t look like you’re doing too well. So spill it.”

“What if she doesn’t want to?” Carly, the final member of the Triad, asked defensively. Carly was a blonde, with half of her bangs covering the right side of her face over a celeste blue eye. She also had an inordinate fondness of plaid, one I could see in her green-plaid t-shirt.

“Then we’ll just have to  _ make _ her open up,” Diane sneered.

“Good idea!” Leona agreed.

I felt the Malevolence within Lilah’s soul was preventing that. But it’d be better for her if she did open. Setting my powers so only I could see them, I reached into Lilah’s soul.

It was harder, for her glob was bigger, and I grimaced under the pain.

“Hey, what’s with him?” Diane asked, pointing her finger backwards to me.

“I dunno, he’s been doing weird stuff as long as I’ve known him,” Leona replied.

“Hey, be nice! Doug didn’t do anything wrong to you! At least, not intentionally, but still!” Carly protested. Sure, Carly was a bit of a ditz, but only sometimes.

Can’t stop now, though. Need to do this for Lilah!

The glob finally came loose. It was about the side of a strawberry, an inch and a half across. I disintegrated it, but it took a little longer than Sarah and Ash’s.

Lilah blinked. That much influence on her mind being removed  _ couldn’t _ be unnoticeable. “Excuse me, I gotta go.”

“What? Oh no you don’t, we’re just getting started! Don’t tell me you’re chickening out!” Leona griped. But Lilah ignored her and walked away until she was out of the cafeteria.

As the one responsible for her leaving, I decided to follow. “And what the fuck are  _ you _ doing?” Leona inquired.

I turned around. Damn, I’d find it much easier to hate her if she wasn’t so cute. Or looked like a clone of my mother save for a smaller nose, freckles, and blue eyes instead of green. I opened my mouth and said this:

“Proving that, unlike you, I actually  _ do _ care about the people around me. I’m going to check on her to see if she’s alright.”

“I thought you  _ didn’t _ like being interrupted when you were upset,” Carly asked.

“Everyone’s different,” I replied. “I need to get all the emotions out because I’m an emotional person. I don’t know about Lilah, but I think she’s a bit different. And one more thing,” I added in Leona and Diane’s direction. “Mess with my friends, you mess with me. And I do  _ not _ compromise easily.”

Then I raced off.

* * *

_ Leona grimaced as Doug left. “Why does he always have to play the hero?” she muttered to herself. _

_ “Because playing the villain never gets you anywhere, that’s why,” Bridgette retorted. _

_ Diane was quick to pick up the argument where it’d left off. But Leona stalled.  _ I don’t like doing this.

**_But you must,_** _boomed the deep voice Leona’d been hearing for the last few months. It was harsh and stern, but it made several good points. Regrettably._ **_They hate you. And for good reason; you’re nothing. All you have is your anger now. Use it. Make them hurt like they’ve hurt you._**

_ No one noticed her tears as she resumed her argument. _

Why’d it have to be this way?

* * *

Doug Vision

“Lilah? Hello?” I asked. I didn’t know where she’d gone. But I needed to find her. And fast!

I raced around the ground floor. She wasn’t in the gym, wasn’t in any of the health rooms. I even stopped time multiple instances so I could check the girl’s locker rooms but she wasn’t in there either.

Time for some backup.

_ DTL? _ I asked, my telepathic link to my waifu apparently still strong in the daytime.  _ I need your help. _

_ Sure thing, sweetie. What is it? _

_ I need to find Lilah. She’s upset and I wanna comfort her. _

_ Awww. _

_ But I can’t find her, and my powers aren’t strong enough. _

_ Ah, I see. Have you touched her? I need DNA so I can lock onto her location. _

_ I think she put her hands on my shoulder when she talked to me earlier. Sarah likes oral, apparently. _

_ Mmmm. Oh, yeah, I can find her. _

A brief silence as DTL worked her magic.

_ She’s upstairs. Third floor, west hallway. _

_ I...don’t know where west is. _ Frankly I was more impressed by how fast Lilah had gotten to the third floor in just a few minutes.

_ Me either, but it’s there on the map I have. I guess you should look for a landmark. Do you know where your social studies room is? _

_ Yeah? _

_ That’s the west side. She’s a few rooms ahead of that. _

_ Gotcha. Thanks honey. _

_ No problemo, mi amor. _

Wait, she spoke Spanish?! Man, DTL is full of surprises.

I followed her instructions and bolted up the nearest stairway. It took me to the corner where my social studies classroom was around the left; I guess that made that the north stairway. I found Lilah pacing outside an unfamiliar classroom.

“Lilah!”

She bolted upright. “Doug, what is it?”

“I’ve been looking for you all over! I know what Leona said probably hurt your feelings, and she had no right to, but I just want to know something.”

“Make it quick.”

“You’ve been upset all day, and I’m a little worried.”

“As if you’d care.”

“I do care! I always care! Please, Lilah, I’m your friend. You can tell me anything.”

Lilah took a deep breath. “You know what I said about having a boyfriend?”

“Yeah?”

An awkward silence as Lilah struggled to find the words, but then she found them. And they weren’t particularly happy ones.

“...I  _ don’t _ have a boyfriend.”

Then she broke down crying. It was hard for me to see, but I forced myself to. For her. No one else was around, so she didn’t need to worry about anyone else seeing her and making fun of her.

I hugged her and gently ran my hand along her back. Wow, was she always this soft? “What happened, when did it happen, and whose ass do I gotta whup?”

“Drake dumped me yesterday. Said that our relationship wasn’t exciting him anymore.” She wiped her tears off her left cheek with the corresponding hand, getting a black mascara smudge on it. “Am I really that dull?”

“No! Of course not,” I said, taken aback. “You’re funny, thought-provoking, and you’ve got excellent taste in books.”

“...What was that last one?”

“Tenth grade memories. Come to think of it, I think Drake’s the idiot here.”

She stopped crying and looked up. “How?”

“Well, he’s never attended any social events important to your family. I mean, he didn’t even bother showing up to your great-aunt’s funeral.”

“You’re right…”

“And your anniversary. He didn’t even remember that. It was April 17, I think.”

“It won’t be now,” she said, more determination in her voice.

“I don’t even think he remembered your birthday. December 6th?”

“Yeah! That’s right, you and the girls gave me a card and everything, and I didn’t get shit from him.” Lilah was fuming. “I should’ve dumped HIM!” Then her expression changed. “But in all honesty, I don’t need you going after him, Doug. Please, two guys fighting over my honor isn’t really necessary.”

I froze. “And what makes you think I’d fight for you?” I asked cautiously. That’s when I noticed the edges of her eyes, where the scleras met the lids, were starting to turn green. The lovecharming was starting to take effect; fortunately, it looked like it’d give me a visual cue when it was happening. I quickly stopped time before anyone could come and interrupt us. Lilah didn’t notice the wave of green blanket the world in silence.

“Don’t play innocent with me, Doug. I  _ know _ you like me.” Well, it  _ was _ true that I liked her as a little more than a friend, she just wasn’t the only one I felt that way towards. “And I think I might have to tell you something.”

She started getting closer towards me. “A while back, I realized that if Drake was going to dump me, I’d need to find someone else to date. After looking through all the guys in our grade, I realized that you were the best fit.” She chuckled sadly. “I mean, you’re funny, smart, draw good cartoons, and...you care about me. More than I thought anyone could. So...whaddya say, dude?”

“I don’t say,” I replied. “I  _ do _ .” With that, I kissed her. I wasn’t her first, and she wasn’t mine, but there was a wonderful, savory and rich sensation I got from kissing her.

“But,” I said after the kiss ended, pressing my finger to her nose (Boop), “there are a few things you should know. Lilah, did you feel...different after a few minutes ago?”

“I did,” she said, pushing my hand away from her face. Her eyes were normal now. “It felt like my mind was cleared up, like there was this thing in my brain that was keeping me from being open.”

“Well, you’re not crazy. Follow me.” I led her downstairs and showed her some sophomore who was standing at the landing, frozen midstep.

“Oh my god! What the hell’s going on?!” she exclaimed. She waved her hand in front of his face. “Nothing? Has the world gone MAD?!!!!!”

“No, but it’s gone still.”

“How do you know?!” she asked incredulously.

“Well, how should I say this…”

It would take a while, because the truth of the matter was pretty lengthy. Plus I had to explain how it was okay for me to sleep with Gwen, pursue Lilah, and romance an orange-eyed dandere I’d never met, all at the same time. Saying the wrong thing might turn her off, even with purification.

That’s when it hit me. “No. I’d better show you.” It was so much simpler to do the thing I did next. I reached into my mind, took the memories of being told the truth, and performed a memory transfer into Lilah’s brain. This consisted of my head glowing with a fuzzy green aura, a twisting, translucent mass of pixels emerging from my forehead (meant to be my memories, I suppose), and my eyes glowing too. Lilah’s own eyes glowed as the memories entered her mind. When it was done, the glowing ceased.

I still had the original memories, but now she had copies of them, and as she blinked I felt her process them. “Wow. So you’re basically a god.”

“I guess, though the universe actually created itself countless times before this cycle.”

Lilah understood that part. “And there’s evil chocolate making people evil.”

“I never put it that way before, but sure.” I never noticed it before, but I realized that the Malevolence was the color of certain chocolate things.

“But if it makes people evil, then why aren’t I?”

“The Malevolence makes you more inclined to be irrational and selfish, not evil. You need to choose to let those continue developing for you to be evil,” I explained.

“That makes sense, I guess.” Then her eyes bugged out. She’d found  _ that _ memory. Welp. “You and  _ GWEN _ ?! What did she have that I don’t?”

“Aside from the obvious?” I grinned. It dawned on her exactly what I meant, and she couldn’t help but blush a little. Hm...blush...

Lilah elbowed me. “You ass! I thought you wanted to be with  _ me _ , not her.”

“Actually, about that. Part of my destiny involves all the girls who’ve fallen for me (not that I  _ know _ who they are, that’s what lovecharming’s for) joining together as a single harem. After all, I could never choose just one of you. I love you all equally.”

“Really?” I nodded. “Oh, Doug, that’s so nice of you!” she exclaimed, hugging me tightly. “So...wanna do it?”

“Interesting segue,” I said, “and I think I know why,” I added on noticing her scleras were turning green again. “But yes, I do. Because I love you.”

Lilah kissed me and led me down to a vacant girl’s bathroom. Even though no one was able to see us, I guess she was a little shy about others seeing her body.

“Strip me,” she said. Using my nudifying powers, our clothes quickly flew off and landed in a neat pile.

I looked Lilah over. She indeed had freckles everywhere, as I’d suspected. Her breasts were average-sized and paler than the rest of her body. Her pubic hair was shaved off, with only a few wisps of orange left around her vagina. Her toenails were unpainted, but she did have nice feet with well-shaped, smooth nails and nary a callus in sight. I frankly wished she wore sandals more often.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she commented, noticing I was looking her over. “Nice feet, by the way,” she added. “I found out from your memories that you’re a little kinky. But hey, fucking a guy in a public bathroom  _ has _ always been a fantasy of mine.”

“Then let’s act it out,” I said. We quickly embraced, fell to the floor, and began making out.

* * *

“Y’know,” Lilah said, her voice muffled because she had my cock in her mouth, “it’s really weird how we can talk normally when we’re doing this.” We were in a 69 position, one I think I’ll prefer in terms of performing oral sex.

I momentarily paused from eating her out to answer. “Side effect of my powers enhancing my stamina. It extends to everyone else I’m fucking at the moment, too, so that’s why you can speak.” I’d learned that over the last few days of summer as well.

“Not like I want to at the moment. And get back to licking me! It feels good…Drake hardly ever did that…”

“A guy attracted to girls who refuses to do cunnilingus but expects fellatio is the true definition of stupid,” I replied as I ran my tongue across her soft, luscious labia, before proceeding to stick it in her vagina as far as I could. Lilah shuddered and came onto my face. “Tangy,” I muttered as I rolled the taste of her Skene’s fluid around in my cheeks.

She giggled and released my cock from her mouth, before turning around so her frontside was upside. Her face had a look of heavy lust on it. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” We were positioned in the same way as tribadism. Man, I really needed to research the names of these positions. I slowly pushed forward and I soon found myself inside her. Her vagina, like Gwen’s, wasn’t that tight, but I didn’t care. Just knowing that Lilah liked me was enough.

Lilah moaned. “Mmm...Doug, you might’ve noticed that I’m a little...loose down there.”

She knew exactly what I was thinking. How did she do that? “I did. Drake’s bigger than me, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, but you’re...gentler. I like this more.”

We continued bumping our junk together before I had an idea, one that got me even harder. “Then you’re going to  _ love _ this.” Our particular pose meant her feet were close to my head, and having a foot fetish, I took advantage of this. I lay flat on my back, grabbed a foot in each hand, and moved them to my face. I began to run my tongue against her soles. Her feet had a slightly alkaline taste to them, like baking soda.

“Oh, wow! You  _ do _ like feet,” Lilah giggled. “It’s weird, but–”

“Should I stop? I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable–”

“No, no! Don’t stop. I like this. Could you maybe...suck my toes?”

I grinned into the heel I was currently smooching. “Sure thing, darling, I like toes more than soles anyway.” I lowered her feet and began to suck on her toes, starting with the second toe of her left foot.

Lilah murmured something I couldn’t quite understand. I couldn’t really see her face, but from what I could tell, it was almost completely pink. My heart leapt at the realization that she enjoyed being with me.

After a few minutes of this, me sucking her toes as I fucked her (holy crap on a biscuit, she felt amazing), Lilah suddenly removed her legs from my face. She flipped herself over so that she was on top of me, and ground against me. We held each other as she came. And soon after, I did too.

Lilah removed herself and lay next to me, pressing a kiss to my lips. “Not bad, Doug,” she said, incredibly happy, as she looked down at the semen leaking from her pussy. “I haven’t had an orgasm that good in a very long time.”

“Glad I could help. Anything else I could do?”

Lilah chewed her lip. “Two things. The first is about my nails.” I immediately paid attention. “What color should I wear next? Aya’s birthday’s this Sunday, and my mom’s taking us to a nail salon for mani-pedis then.”

“Green,” I answered without taking a beat.

“What kind of green, though? Like a light green, or a blue-green, or–” I summoned a patch of green light of  my exact favorite color . “Oh, that kind of green. I’ll see if that one’s available.”

“What’s the other thing?” I asked, dissolving the patch.

“It’s about my breakup. Should I tell Carly and Bridgette today, or should I wait a little?”

“Lilah, they’re your best friends. I think they’ll be willing to comfort you. Better than I can, at least.”

“Don’t say that. I wouldn’t even be at this point if it weren’t for you, and for someone who just lost their virginity you’re damn good at making love.”

I smiled at her. “Well, I’m still certain they can help in ways I can’t. But it’s important you tell them sooner rather than later. You can’t let things like this fester up inside you until it’s too late to do anything about them.” Inwardly, I found this highly ironic, on account of a particularly nasty secret that lay in my soul even deeper than my foot fetish did. But Lilah didn’t need to know that.

“Anyway, let’s get back, shall we?” I used my powers to dress us again, and we stood up.

“But how am I going to keep this whole, y’know, I-fucked-you-in-the-bathroom thing secret?”

“Same way as with Gwen, chicky. Mental roadblock that prevents you saying so in front of anyone who’s not already aware of my true nature.”

Lilah shrugged. “Eh, better than nothing, I guess.”

“In all honesty,” I said as we walked back to the spots where we’d been before I froze time, “you can tell me anything you’re keeping secret.”

“I think I’ve told you everything,” she replied. However, there was a little nervousness in her voice when she said that, causing me to suspect otherwise.

“You sure?”

“Yep!” She was hastier this time. “Let’s just get back, okay?” I decided not to press the issue any further.

* * *

“AND STAY OUT!” we heard when we entered the cafeteria again. To our amusement, Tessa was literally chasing Leona and Diane out of the room.

“She’s pretty fast for someone in flip-flops,” I said of Tessa.

“No shit. I’d hate to be on  _ her _ bad side,” Lilah agreed. We returned to our friends.

“Sorry about that, it took a bit longer than expected to drive out stupid and stupider,” Bridgette grunted. “Luckily she accidentally pissed Tessa off, otherwise she’d still be here.”

“Amen to that,” Carly agreed.

“Hey, guys?” Lilah asked tentatively.

“What is it?” Bridgette asked.

“I’d like to tell you what’s bothering me. It’s Drake. He...dumped me yesterday.”

“Aww, you poor thing!” Carly winced. “C’mon, I wanna give you a hug.” Lilah sat down and Carly cuddled her gently.

“Thanks,” Lilah sighed. “I needed this.”

Off to the side, I smiled. Sure, Lilah had gotten over most of it thanks to finding someone new, but ultimately, nothing beat getting help from your friends.

Or at least, I assume that’s how it works.

I sighed. I guess this was my life now. Also, maybe I should keep count.

Yeah.

Two down, sixty-one to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit less erotic, but ya need to see exactly the world Doug’s living in. Until the last girl is found, this will be Doug’s life.
> 
> Doug has found his second lover and the Malevolence has just lost two holders. Now what? Stay tuned to find out…
> 
> Review time!
> 
> tymofey: You're our first review! The plot will grow in due time, but I thank you for liking the kinks!


	4. Orange Gina

September 4, 2019 AD. 

Kikehuwet, Delaware. 

Doug Vision 

“Hey Wendy, whatcha reading?” Liz asked. Liz was a 5’4” bubbly British-accented blonde with hazel eyes and a kind heart. She wasn’t the smartest person I knew, but I cared more about niceness. Right now, Liz was wearing a light pink t-shirt, a lavender skirt, cyan strappy size 7 heels, a red bow in her hair and a sapphire necklace. Her fingernails were white, her toenails red, her lips pink.

“Oh, just some classic King.” Wendy was a 5’3” goth, with a strong interest and tolerance in the supernatural, gruesome, and supernaturally gruesome. Part of her red-orange hair was tied up in two buns by light blue ribbons. She wore a black t-shirt with ripped sleeves, dark green cargo shorts with maroon splatters, and size 10 black wedge flip-flops with pink straps. Her fingernails and toenails were a matching highlighter yellow, contrasting the black of her lips. She had three bracelets on each arm (magenta, lime green, and blue on the left, cyan, yellow, and red on the right) and a black metal anklet with little spherical thingies dangling from it on her right leg.

“Sounds cool! I wanna read.” Wendy turned her book, _Cell_ , to Liz. After just a few seconds of reading Liz’s face paled and her pupils shrank. “Never mind.”

This was happening in the wee hours of advisory. From my seat in the front, I chuckled. “Poor Liz.”

“Yeah, I know. She should be more careful with Wendy’s kind of read,” Alyssa, the girl in the seat behind the empty spot next to me, agreed. Alyssa was one of my closest friends, a kindly 5’7” African-American girl with a love of books and stupid puns. Right now she was wearing a light green t-shirt, reddish-purple tights with a beige triangular design, black Nikes with blue socks, and a scarlet headband. Her fingernails were mauve. “Wonder what exactly turned her off.”

“Shouldn’t it be obvious? The blood and stuff. Geeze, it gives _me_ the willies.” I shuddered.

“Not that. I’ve read that book before. Cellphones take over the world.”

“Are you accusing Liz of being so shallow that she’s obsessed with her phone?”

“Kinda.”

Yeah, the Malevolence was making her say that. Luckily, her piece was only about the size of a grape, so dissolving it was a bit easier.

Alyssa blinked. “Oh, damn, that was mean, wasn’t it?”

“A little.”

“Hey everyone!” Cindy announced, bouncing into the room. She was wearing a red dress with black gladiator sandals today. “I have a really big announcement!”

“How big?” a girl named Veronica asked.

“Bigger than Beth,” a guy I never really liked, Frank, grumbled. Beth, who was overweight, deflated at this.

“Frank, _no_. That was mean and wholly uncalled for,” Cindy frowned. “I want you to apologize to Beth immediately.”

“Make me, teach.”

“Fine. Lunch detention today. This classroom. Skip it and I’ll have it extended to the rest of the week _and_ to after school.” Frank’s jaw dropped and he slumped in disbelief. I smiled to myself; Frank was an Incurable and had it coming for a long time.

“ANYWAY,” Cindy said, resuming her cheerful tone, “I’ve been told to invite you all to an assembly at 5:20 today. Student Body President Gina Sagese will be addressing you. It’ll be brief, but it may affect the entire rest of your year.”

I didn’t know if I wanted to go. I had a lot of ideas for the school, but they always fell on deaf ears.

Or at least, I assumed they would. The people in student government frightened me so much I’d never been able to ask.

Perhaps I should find Gina today. I knew her from before, so maybe I could skip the middlemen and women and go straight to the source.

I looked over at Beth. Beth was a 5’5” brunette and was maybe 45” around, but I didn’t care so much about her weight but again, her personality: shy and meek, but capable of boldness. Right now she was wearing a royal blue t-shirt, white shorts, and gray flats. Her fingernails were a nude pink, and her gray eyes hid behind a pair of red glasses. But I could still see the lingering sadness in her face.

I hoped she’d be alright.

* * *

_After the bell rang, Beth plodded over to Cindy. “Thank you,” she said quietly, tears forming at the edges of her eyes._

_“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here if you need me,” Cindy replied gently. Beth couldn’t take it anymore and hugged the older girl._

_Beth sniffled. “H-hardly anyone stands up for me...except for Doug.”_

_“Oh?” Cindy was intrigued._

_“Y-yeah. He...he knows what it’s like to be hurt. So...he’s always really nice to me.”_

_“I see. Well, maybe he doesn’t have to be the only one. Beth, I promise you, you are a worthy student. You can tell me anything.”_

_“Th...thank you.”_

* * *

Doug Vision 

A while later, it was gym. Today we were picking which section of the class we wanted. I wanted to know if they would offer yoga, because there’s no way I’m doing team sports.

“You know what you’re gonna pick, Doug?” Frieda asked me. Frieda was a kindly Basque girl on the cheerleading team; she, along with her best friends Jessica and Melissa, had been in all my gym classes since ninth grade.

“Same thing I choose every year,” I replied.

Frieda looked at me, staring into me with her teal eyes. “Hm. You sound a lot more confident about that than usual.”

“Well if Gwen’s right and he really DID kick a shooter’s ass, then he has every right to be,” Melissa, a snarky African-American girl, replied. She and Jessica, a mellow copper-haired Japanese girl, joined us in the bleachers.

“She is, and I did,” I confirmed. “Nice to see you guys again.”

“Ditto that, dude,” Melissa said, raising her fist for a fist-bump, which I did.

“So...you guys headed to the assembly?” Jessica asked.

“I dunno. Isn’t our cheerleading meeting today also?” Frieda replied.

“Cheerleading meeting?” I asked.

“Everyone who’s currently on the cheer squad has to meet so we can discuss stuff. We do it every year.”

“Oh. I was wondering why you guys all had the same outfits.” All three of them were wearing the same clothes: a purple t-shirt, blue shorts, and white flip-flops. Grant Academy’s school colors were blue (because Ulysses S. Grant fought for the blue-clad Union Army) and purple (for the purple heart, even though Grant ironically never got one), and white was a common addition to that ensemble.

“Yeah, this is the ‘casual’ cheer outfit for the summer. Fall version’s the same except we get sneakers instead of flip-flops,” Melissa explained.

“At least they didn’t make us do our nails the same color, that gets boring really quick,” Jessica said. Although the three of them had matching manicures and pedicures, the exact color was different: Frieda’s were metallic silver, Melissa’s black, and Jessica’s own were a dull purple.

“Not that you’d mind, right?” Frieda asked teasingly.

“I wouldn’t. I actually like change more than most Aspies do,” I corrected. “I _do_ like yours, though. All three of you.” They smiled. They were among the first to know about you-know what; Jessica second, Frieda fifth, and Melissa eighth. They’d taken it quite well. 

“I know, we did them together. Lucky me,” Jessica smirked, her green eyes lightly glazing with lust. Jessica’s own latent foot fetish was part of the reason why.

“Hold on, Ursula just texted me the schedule,” Frieda said. She pulled out her phone and looked it over. “Well, that’s a relief. Cheer meeting’s at 4:30 and lasts until 5:00. And since it and Gina’s assembly are both at school, we won’t have to leave and go back.”

“And it gives you twenty minutes for homework,” I added.

Melissa scoffed. “Please. Since when do teenagers use twenty free minutes for academics?”

“WE are,” Frieda stepped in.

“Do we have to?”

“Yes, because we all have an APUSH assignment for tomorrow!”

“...Oh. That’s a good reason.”

“I never got the appeal of AP US History,” I mused. “In all honesty, there aren’t as many jobs one can get with a history major.”

“I know, but SOMEONE’S gotta do it,” Melissa pointed out.

“Never said it wasn’t useful.”

“So Doug, are you gonna come too?” Jessica asked.

“I don’t think they’d appreciate me coming in to your cheer meeting and checking out all your butts,” I said.

“ _Pfft!_ ” She laughed. “Not what I meant, buddy. And besides, we all know you’d be checking out our _feet_.” She kicked off her flip-flops and raised her feet to wiggle her toes in my face; she had a dark gray ring on the second and fourth toe of each foot.

“J-Jessica!” I stuttered, trying in vain to hide my boner.

“Girl, are you _trying_ to kill him?” Frieda asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“No, but I’ll stop,” Jessica said sheepishly, lowering her legs and putting her shoes back on.

“Well, I dunno. Most of the time I don’t feel like I belong anywhere. And I don’t think my father would let me,” I explained.

“He doesn’t let you do a lot of things, doesn’t he?” Frieda asked.

“You have no idea.”

“Well, I think it’s important that you _do_ come. Democracy isn’t democracy if not all voices get heard,” Jessica said. She and her friends scooted close to me.

“Doug, we _want_ you to come. Even if you’re not comfortable saying so to most people, you can see exactly what we need done. So please, for everyone, try to get permission.”

I looked at Jessica’s face, then leaned in to gently headbutt her, to show I cared about her the cat’s way. “I’ll try.”

The three of them nodded, satisfied by my response.

* * *

Lunchtime. Time to find Gina. She was a member of Squad Gamma, so I knew where to look. All the Squads hung out together, more or less, so all I had to do was follow Julian, a male member of Squad Gamma, out of AP Physics and into the courtyard.

Luckily, he didn’t notice me.

Unluckily, I didn’t notice someone else until I’d walked into her.

“Oh, I’m sho shorry!” she apologized. I backed up to get a good look at her. She was a light brown-eyed platinum blonde with her bangs obscuring her eyes, standing 5’9”, broad shoulders and narrow waist. She was wearing an orange t-shirt with azure stripes, khaki shorts, and yellow sneakers without socks. Her fingernails were light pink.

“No, I should be the one who’s sorry, I didn’t see you at all...whoever you are.”

“Oh! This is great!” Gwen said as she bounded towards me. “Doug, this is Alex! She just moved here from Rudersdal.”

“Where’s that?”

“Danmark!” Alex replied cheerfully. That explained the accent. “Nishe meeting you, Doug. I musht go and meet EVERYVUN!” She left.

“She seems friendly,” I noted.

“And I wanna _get_ friendly,” Gwen replied. Her sclerae had glazed over green. I stopped time and we disrobed, Gwen removing her white t-shirt, yellow-striped black skort, and gray boxers.

I looked down as I dropped my shorts and boxers, seeing no shoes but Gwen’s feet with her toenails painted blue-gray. “Nice nails. Barefoot today?”

“What can I say? I like feeling things under my bare soles. Like your cock.” Gwen sat on a table that wasn’t occupied by anyone and beckoned me forward. I did. “Now let’s try something different.” She surprised me by lifting up her own rock-hard penis and touching it against mine. “I’ve always wanted to do a frottage self-footjob,” she explained, before angling her feet so she was jacking both of us off at the same time.

“This is pretty good,” I sighed.

And it was. We spent a glorious seven realtime minutes together until we came together, covering her feet in our combined semen. Gwen self-worshipped the evidence off and we got dressed again.

“So whatcha doin’?” Gwen asked after she restarted time.

“I’m looking for Gina. I wanna talk to her because I want her to make sure I’m not feeling left out in today’s assembly.”

Gwen scratched her head. “I actually don’t know where she is. All of today she’s been trying to hide for some reason.”

“Hm...do you think I can find her?”

“Depends. Can your powers track a person based on their DNA yet?” A pause. “I’m not mocking you, I actually don’t know.”

“I don’t, but I’ll try to find her regardless. But first I gotta eat.”

“I have an extra muffin from breakfast,” Gwen said. I followed her over to her backpack; her black flip-flops were sitting on the ground next to its base. She rummaged around and pulled out said muffin, which was suspiciously brown. “Don’t worry, it’s not chocolate. It’s pumpkin spice.”

“Thank you.”

It was a really good muffin.

* * *

The muffin was supplanted by a tuna sandwich, and once fully fed I resumed my search. Which turned out to take less time than I’d expecterated it to because I saw a flash of dark brown hair streak outside the cafeteria. “Gina,” I murmured, before running after her to tail her. Gina was wearing size 8 muddy brown peeptoe pumps that day, so she was slower than I was, and I easily caught up to her. “Gina!”

“KIAUGH!” She curled into a ball. “Don’t look at me!”

“Why not?” Looking her over, I saw that she was wearing a dark blue sleeveless dress. Her fingernails were an earthy green, her toenails black. “You look fine!”

“N-no, I don’t…”

“Gina, since when was Doug Magnum, boy of a hundred scars, ever the type to mock one’s physical appearance?”

Gina conceded and stood up. She looked a lot like Vanessa Doofenshmirtz, only shorter (5’4” to the toon’s 5’10”) and Italian instead of weird German country that doesn’t exist. Her eyes were black, her lips painted coral pink, a small mole on her right cheek, and her skin…

Was covered in orange blotches.

“Carotenodermia, huh?” I asked.

“Is that what this nightmare is called?” Gina asked, tears in her eyes.

“Yeah. How’d it happen?”

“I was really stressed out staying up all night to make the perfect speech for today, and I kept myself up by drinking caffeinated orange soda.”

“And you drank so much that your body’s natural carotene degradation process couldn’t keep up,” I finished.

“Yeah...I’m scared.” One thing I liked about Gina was that she was quite candid about her emotions. “I can’t go onstage looking like this! People will be more focused on that and less on what I’m saying. I wish it weren’t that way, but it is.”

The poor girl. My own selfishness flew right out the window. Now I wanted to help her.

I did a quick mental check of my powers and saw one labeled MASK FROM AFAR. This was perfect; it would let me hide the blemishes on other people’s bodies. As a short-range power, though, I needed to be within 100 feet of the target or it wouldn’t work.

Since this was happening in my mind, Gina couldn’t see it. But I did tell her, “Actually, I _can_ help.”

“Really? How?”

“I’m...not sure if I should tell you _how_ exactly, but I can. I’ll try to come tonight, Fat Man permitting. Just promise me that you won’t leave me out of the discussion.”

“Doug, my role as Student Body President is to make sure _no one_ is left out. Especially not someone as kind and sweet as you are.” She patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry. If you help me, I’ll help you. Deal?”

“Deal.” I saw her sclerae briefly flicker green; Gina confirmed harem member. She seemed to notice this, for she shook her head to dissipate the green. Lovecharming, I’d learned, was very easily suppressed, pushed aside to the darkerest parts of the mind to keep people from being distracted.

As Gina left, I decided to purify her. The glob within her soul was the same size as Alyssa’s, meaning Gina wouldn’t be changing all that much.

I’d also learned that people could be irrational and evil even if the Malevolence wasn’t even there. So she’d still be freaking out unless I helped her.

* * *

The rest of the day was a blur. Spanish I listened to the Korean Tchai sisters, Ruth and Sophie, bicker once again. Only the first few minutes of my free was actually used for homework, as it had been yesterday.

Before English I ran into Lilah, who was charmed; I stopped time and we had a wonderful romp of anal sex, her small but tight butt feeling quite comfortable. Lilah then offered to return the favor, but I turned it down; she couldn’t shapeshift her genitals (well, neither could I) and I didn’t want her to get in trouble for bringing a strapon to school.

Which, of course, also raised the pertinent question of _how_ she acquired such a toy without her parents finding out about it.

English was fine, the assignment being to read the first chapter of The Great Gatsby for tomorrow.

And of course, I dreaded coming home.

* * *

I got off the bus and walked over to my house. Scarlet was walking home with me. She was wearing a red t-shirt, dark green shorts, and white Adidas sneakers with light pink socks. Her fingernails were painted seafoam green.

“You gonna go to the government thingy?” she asked me.

“If my father lets me.”

“Hm…well, see you tomorrow, Doug.” We parted ways and I entered my house.

I set my backpack down on a bench in the doorway and cracked my shoulders, the satisfying popples of released tension rippling through me. I took off my sneakers and–

“DOUGLAS!”

Well, shit.

I walked upstairs to the second floor. There were two bedrooms, one much larger than the other, and two bathrooms. One of them was an office for _him_ , although I don’t think _he_ used it that way because I doubted _he_ worked anymore. I grimaced at the ugly vase standing on a pedestal outside it as I entered.

_He_ scowled at me. “What happened at school?”

Ah yes, the daily report. “Social studies was fine, trig was fine, gym was alright–”

“I hope you signed up for Sports like a Proper Young Man.”

The last three words made me cringe internally. “Sorry, couldn’t. It filled up.” That was partly true, as the sports option was always inordinately popular, and when I’d decided to throw my lot in with yoga I’d seen the list for the Team Sports option had no empty spots left.

He groaned. “They really Ought to make it Bigger. Continue.”

“Physics had some kinematics problems, but I did those already.” _He_ stared at me incredulously, so I didn’t bother explaining what they were. “There’s a new set of vocab for Spanish, I’ve gotten half the definitions done” [well, actually _all_ of them, but I needed to make it seem like I was actually _doing_ something at home] “and I have reading to do for English.”

“That’s it?”

“Well, there’s a student government meeting today at 5:20, and I think I’d want to go.”

“Stop Right There.” _He_ looked at me with a venomous glare. “I will Not let you Go.”

Hardly surprising. “Why not?”

“Because it’s Not Proper. The Student Government can only listen to People With Good Ideas. People who promise Change are Not Good people. Especially if they elected a _woman_. [Gina was the first female student body president in Grant history] I don’t want you getting Corrupted any more than you Are.”

“Wha– corrupted?! I’m normal! A little awkward, but normal otherwise!”

“Wrong! This is Final. You are Not Going.”

Fucking asswipe on a cheeseburger.

* * *

About an hour later, after finishing my reading, I was bored. So I decided to do some drawing. On a piece of white paper I drew a chibi version of Gina. This reminded me that I needed to talk to someone. I promptly fell asleep at my desk.

I entered the dreamscape. “Ah, Chosen, what brings you here so early?” Cataluka asked.

“I need to speak with my fellow human, she might be able to explain things better,” I replied.

DTL popped into existence. “You rang?”

“Yeah. It’s my father.” I did a quick memory transfer to her. “Is there a reason _he_ acts this way? Why _he’s_ trying to ruin my life?”

“I think it might time to introduce you to the Four of Fate,” she replied. Twin purple wisps of spiralling energy appeared; I took this to mean that purple was her favorite color. “The number four is revered in Zakochan culture for its relevance to the universe. Think about it; the majority of terrestrial vertebrates across the universe have four limbs, there are four fundamental forces carried by vector bosons, temperate climates have four seasons, there are sixty-four, that’s four cubed, people in the Magnum Harem including us, and the list goes on. And the number four is especially relevant when it comes to the fate of the universe.”

A silhouette of myself appeared in the first, colored green. “You are _Wybraniec_ , The Chosen. Your job is to build up your harem so you’ll have the strength to destroy the Malevolence in its entirety once the time comes. Of the four, you are the only one exclusive to Cycla Ultima, the current incarnation of the universe.”

In the second wisp, a silhouette of a girl appeared, colored purple. “This is me. I’m _Kochanek_ , The Lover. My job is to keep you under control and make sure you don’t use your powers to harm others without just cause, and maintain your mental wellbeing too. Just like you have to be there to keep the girls safe, I have to do the same for you.”

Both of those wisps dissolved, and two new ones rose in their place. The third had a grown woman’s silhouette colored royal blue. “This is _Szkolenie_ , The Nurturer. She’s the one responsible for the growth of your positive traits. Your kindness, humility, and bravery ultimately come from her. I don’t know who she is, but the Zakochani do and they’re not telling. Apparently they’re not speaking to each other for something she did.”

“I agree, pissing off reality-bending aliens countless times older than you is probably a really bad idea.”

The final wisp appeared, the silhouette of an overweight man colored the same putrid brown as my father’s eyes. “This is _Niewybraniec_ , The Unchosen. Corrupted at conception, they’re the human embodiment of selfishness and discomfort. Their job was to drive you to suicide before you could develop your powers. They failed, obviously, because you’re here talking to me. The person in question is someone I _do_ know: he’s your father.”

I floated there dumbly, but it made sense. _He_ never liked me, and now I knew why. “Does...does _he_ know?”

“Fortunately, no, he doesn’t. The Malevolence thought it could control him more easily if it kept him in the dark,” Cataluka explained. “It promised him that the simplistic, conformic world that he so desired would be preserved if he mistreated you.”

“But,” came a new voice, “that didn’t work.” Another Zakochan suddenly appeared; her eyes were neon teal and her lashes were shorter than Cataluka’s. “In trying to drag you down, the Malevolence only helped you grow. Because your father was forcing his values on you, you became more likely to oppose them. Admittedly, you _did_ end up with severe mental health issues, but those can be overcome.”

“It’s easier for Zakochani to stave off a negative self-image than it is for humans, Ratchentka,” Cataluka replied, rolling her eyes.

“Ratchentka?” I asked.

“My harem’s equivalent of The Lover and the last of my mates to be met,” Cataluka explained.

“Hi!” Ratchentka chirped. She then uttered something to her lover in the clicking language of the Zakochani, which neither of us humans could have any hope or chance of understanding. They conversed rapidly.

“It’s like they’re speaking Spanish. Or Japanese,” I said in awe.

“I speak _both_ and they’re even _faster_ ,” DTL said, equally dumbstruck.

“Alright,” Cataluka said, back in English. “One more question, then I must depart. There’s a situation on the planet Ialon. We need to be there to purify as many Fbiquin as we can.”

“I guess the Malevolence being a force permeating the entire universe means you’re always busy,” I said. “I need to know: the shade of brown that’s my dad’s eyes. It’s the same as the Malevolence’s.”

“That color is known in Zakochan culture as the Color of Death,” Cataluka replied. “We see it as the color of decay, of rot, and of pestilence. The Malevolence rots the mind, so it’s fitting that that is its coloration. And your father is its champion, so it’s only logical that his favorite color would be that of death itself.” Then she and Ratchentka dissolved in a flash of light.

“I think I should go too, I have homework,” DTL said.

“I figured out how to use my powers to do it for me without not learning anything,” I offered.

“Oh, that’s a good idea, actually! But still, I gotta go. You too, you need to figure out how to get away from your dad.”

“Yeah, I guess. Love you, baby.”

“Love you too.”

Then I woke up.

* * *

It was now 4:45. If I wanted to go help Gina, I needed to get out _now_. But how?

I heard the doorbell ring. Then _his_ thundering footsteps. Curious, I slunk downstairs.

“Mr. Gordon! How Are You?” _he_ said. On the other side of the door was Scarlet’s father. He was the same height and had the same eyes as his daughter, but his hair was brown.

“Fine,” Mr. Gordon replied, curt and terse as usual. “There’s been some talks of an upcoming block party on this street. As president of the neighborhood watch, I felt I might need to ask you if you’d want to come.”

“No, and I’ll Tell You Why. First off…”

I heard a slight tapping at the back door. Looking through the peephole, I discovered Scarlet on the other end. She motioned for me to come outside, and I quietly opened the door. Luckily, I’d put my shoes back on earlier when _he_ wasn’t looking in the event I could figure out how to sneak out.

“What?” I asked after closing the door silently.

“I figured out how to get you to the government meeting!” Scarlet replied cheerfully. “I have swim practice today, so I can drive you over myself!”

“What about my father?” I asked as we walked over to her cobalt blue Prius XW20.

“He’ll be too busy yakking to mine to notice. Trust me, it’s gonna be _5:_ 45 by the time he notices you’re gone.”

She had a point. When _he_ was busy lecturing someone, the entire world seemed to fade away from _his_ point of view.

We got in, me in the back left seat, and buckled up. “How’d you even convince your dad to go to him first?”

“Nah, he was gonna do it anyway. I just got lucky and overheard him.” She started the car and we were off.

* * *

We arrived at 5:10. “I gotta go. Good luck, Doug!” Scarlet said.

“You too.” I raced off to the auditorium.

* * *

_Scarlet looked at Doug as his figure receded. “He’s such a sweet boy,” she said to herself as she took out her swimming gear from the seat next to her. “What I wouldn’t give to go out with him. Too bad Dad won’t allow that for a while…”_

_She didn’t notice, but the edges of her sclerae briefly flickered green, and a slight warmth began to emanate from her core..._

* * *

Doug Vision 

“Gina, I’m gonna be in Seat A16 if you need me,” I said when I found her.

“Okay, that’s good to know.”

“Oh, um...can you do me a favor and keep the noise down? Loud sounds really bother me.”

“That’s perfectly alright. Frankly I think most people hype up their audiences too much and aren’t able to get their message across as a result. Now, about _your_ end of the bargain…”

“Done and done.” I crossed my fingers behind my back, and Gina’s complexion instantly cleared up. Not a speck of orange in sight, if you didn’t count the fat deposits underneath her dermis determining her skin color.

Gina took out a pocket mirror and studied herself. “...Wow, that was _thorough_! But how did you do that?”

“I will explain everything after the speech is over. How long is it?”

“Not very. I should be done in like, a minute or two.”

“Good to know, ‘cuz I snuck out to get here.”

“Interesting.”

“Gina, you’re on!” Vice Principal Rockefeller said.

“Be right there!” She turned to me. “I’ll be back.”

Then she walked over to her podium, while I scampered into my seat.

* * *

Gina approached the podium. “Everyone! This starts now! Please, quiet down so our friends in the back can hear me!”

All of the talking that had been going on around me ceased.

“...and that’s why I’m not allowed in Romania ever again,” a guy named Hollander was saying.

Well, almost all.

We all burst into laughter. Gina tried to keep a straight face but she had to smile a little. Once the room quieted down, Gina resumed her speech.

“Hello! My name, for those of us who are new, is Gina Sagese. I am the Student Body President of the Class of 2021 at Grant Academy, Kikehuwet School District, Kikehuwet, Delaware, The United States of America. As we enter our third year here at Grant Academy, I want to congratulate all of you for making it this far.

“We all hear the tales from those who passed through eleventh grade before us, from our older siblings, friends, and lovers alike. We know what they’ve said. Of course, that depends on your definition of ‘we’. I met a new friend in my advisory yesterday; her name is Alex Astergaard, and she just moved here from another country altogether. I’m not sure how the schools work in Denmark, but I think she, and many other people with us today, would benefit from getting a summary.

“So I shall deliver that summary now.”

Gina paused for a little bit. I turned around and saw Alex in the audience, nodding thoughtfully. Seemed like she agreed with what Gina said. And I agreed too; I didn’t interact too often with the upperclassmen, so I needed some help meself.

Gina resumed her speech.

“Eleventh grade is said to be the absolute hardest year of highschool. This seems unusual, because in the past, it was the successive year that was the hardest. Second harder than first, third harder then second, etc. Why, then, is senior year said to not be as hard?

“Because eleventh grade is the benchmark colleges use to determine whether you’re ready. Your performance this year is going to be inspected by many schools and stacked up against many people our age. Only a few hundred of the myriads of applicants get accepted. There’s a lot of competition.

“And with competition comes a lot of stress. People worry if they aren’t doing ‘good enough’ for a college. And there’s a lot of misconceptions, too, like how a college won’t accept you if you do five sports, yearbook, debate club, AND four AP courses at the same time.”

“Yes you do!” a girl in the student council protested.

Gina facepalmed, then proceeded to wipe her hand downward. “See, THIS is what I have to deal with every time I’m in a meeting with Student Council.” We laughed, except for Student Council. Can’t blame me for voting them in, I have no fucking idea who they are.

“ANYWAY, what I was going to say before Coleen so _rudely_ interrupted me,” Gina continued, “is that sure, you should challenge yourself a little. But people have limits. And if you do all of that, you’re going to have a lot of homework, a lot of work, a lot of sports practice. And when do you suppose you’re going to _eat?!_ To _sleep?!_ ”

This question made a lot of people’s eyes widen.

“We’re teenagers. We need nine hours of sleep or we’re going to suffer. And we can’t survive on an unbalanced diet of chips and inferior soda! In other words, yes, eleventh grade is a challenging time, but it doesn’t HAVE to be AS hard as people say it is.

“You can only take two AP courses, or even just one if that’s all you can handle. You can be involved in five sports if they’re spread out over your entire stay. You can be involved in only one activity your entire stay here. And that’s only one possible combination. You don’t have to take any APs if you can’t handle them, or do any sports if you’re not built for them. And if there aren’t any clubs you like? You can start your own!

“Basically, what I’m trying to get at is that not everything has to follow the same exact layout that people have been telling us is the only way to go. Because I’ve learned throughout my life that there’s always another way.”

A lesson that resonated with me stronkly.

“That’s all I have to say for today. Thanks for your time. I hope that you all have a wonderful year here at Grant Academy!” 

People clapped. Luckily, none of that loud and raucous cheering, or I wouldn’t be able to handle myself.

But as Gina left her podium, I briefly saw her sclerae flicker green once more, so I decided to follow her.

* * *

“Nice job, Gina!” Molly said. Molly was Gina’s best friend, and a close friend of mine through the school newspaper (I didn’t mention it before, but I did odd jobs for it, articles of varying sorts). She was half Micronesian/African, and her dad was a prominent and well-respected anchor for Channel 103 News.

Right now, Molly was wearing a black top, with thin straps and a bow on each point where the strap met the main cloth. She also had on a pair of dull blue skinny jeans with the hems rolled up, and white Arizona Birkenstocks with no socks. Her fingernails and toenails were a matching nude peach color.

“Thanks, it means a lot to me,” Gina sighed.

Since there was no more need for me to cover up her skin, her blotches were on full display for the world to see. “Hey, looks like your skin’s clearing up!”

“It is? Could’ve done it earlier.” Gina took out her pocket mirror again and studied her face. “You’re right, they’re smaller now.”

“Though it _was_ weird how you were able to conceal all of it so thoroughly. What’s your secret?”

“Only Doug knows,” Gina chuckled.

“You had a hand in this?” Molly asked, turning to face me.

“Well, I don’t wanna give too much away, but yes,” I confirmed.

Molly snorted. “If you’re _that_ good at makeup, then I’m hiring you the next time Dad makes me go to one of his business parties. Smell you dorks later!”

“Bye Molly!” I said.

After she’d left, Gina turned to face me. “Doug?”

“Mm?”

“Can I...tell you something? Privately?”

Her sclerae had flickered green a third time. I carefully flicked my right index finger against my thumb, and time was stopped. “We have all the time in the world and no one else is capable of hearing anything. Go right ahead.”

Her pupils shrank. “How did you do that?” And why does it feel that the answer is the same one that let you cover up my carotenodermia so quickly and without any external chemicals?”

“Because they _are_ the same answer. You go first though.”

Gina shook her head. “Right, right. Well, the thing is, Doug, I’ve been thinking about my social life recently. In particular...my love life.

“I like you. A lot. You’re kind when most of the boys I’ve met haven’t been, you’ve been there for me when people haven’t. And you’re so kind-hearted...you’re a lot more like your mother than your father, you know that?

“And I think you like me...at the very least, you think my feet are attractive.” Gina shifted her left foot after she said this, catching my attention. She’d been the 12th girl I’d told about it, and the last one I’d told in ninth grade. “But I certainly hope you aren’t just physically attracted to me.”

“I can confirm that I’m not,” I said. “You’re mature and sensible, and those are rare qualities in today’s world. And you’re determined, too. You didn’t give up when people scoffed at the idea of Grant having a female student body president, and look where you are now!”

She smiled. “Thank you. Now it’s your turn.”

I did a memory transfer to her. “There. See?”

She blinked as she processed it, before swallowing in fear. “Wow, that’s...a tall order. So you’ve got as much responsibility to the universe as much as I have to our school, huh?”

“Yeah, I know it sounds scary, but...I need to do this. The longer I don’t, the more everyone will suffer.”

Gina looked at me. “Then I’ll do what I can to make sure you can fulfill your destiny and destroy the Malevolence once and for all.”

“Of course, the thing you can do is _me_ …”

“And I look forward to it. Doug, how’d you like to be my first kiss?”

I blushed. “I-I’d love to. Thanks for the offer.” We neared each other and then kissed passionately. “And now it’s time to make love.” I declothed both of us, then knelt on the ground. Gina sat down. “Starting with these.” I picked up her feet and began hungrily licking at them. They had a savory, almost tomato-like taste to them, and I just couldn’t get enough of them.

Of her.

Gina giggled as I licked her feet. “Ticklish much?” I asked momentarily. She nodded, blushing coral, and I returned to worshipping this beautiful girl.

“Hey Doug?”

“Mmm?”

“Can I suck your cock?”

“By all means!”

Gina smiled at this and crawled over to my crotch, giving me a full show of her breasts gently swaying. She slipped my penis into her mouth and began bobbing her head up and down it. She wasn’t as experienced as Gwen and Lilah had been, as her technique was more erratic and jerkier comparatively, but that didn’t matter so much.

Eventually, I came into her mouth. She swallowed and looked back up. “Not bad. I _do_ expect you to return the favor, though.”

“Don’t worry, I will. But first, I gotta play with boobies. I can’t believe I’ve already done it four times before you and I haven’t gotten a decent nipple sucking in.”

I gently grabbed her breasts, and Gina groaned erotically. I placed light, chaste kisses all over them, before alternating sucking on each nipple. Her breasts were average-sized but still quite nice to hold.

“D-Doug...you’re driving me nuts.”

I looked down and saw her fingering herself. “Don’t worry, babs, I got you.” I lowered down to her crotch level and dove in. She was sweeter than Gwen and Lilah.

“Ahn!” Gina cried out as I licked at her nethers. Eventually, she couldn’t take it any more and came into my waiting mouth.

“That was so good!” she panted. I kissed her, allowing her to taste her own self. “Wow, that’s what girls taste like?”

“That’s what _you_ taste like. Like it?”

“LOVE it!” She stared at me, confused. “Doug, am I turning gay?”

“I don’t think so. I think it’s a side effect of lovecharming. You don’t only want to sleep with me, but the other girls I’ve slept with too. I think Lilah mentioned something similar.”

“What were her exact words?”

“She said she thinks Rachel’s butt looks more delicious than it usually does.” Rachel was a redhaired Russian poet who was a Triad Acolyte.

Gina laughed. “Sounds like her. But really, if I do turn out bisexual because of this, it won’t be too bad as long as the girls who we date are nice people. And the two you’ve already inducted I honestly wouldn’t mind going down on myself.” She sighed, tsking to herself. “What is this, a harem genre erotica?!”

“Of course they’ll be nice. I don’t like bad girls. And speaking of bad...I’d like to take your virginity.”

Gina blushed and got up against the wall, placing her hands on the purple-painted concrete. I walked forward, my erection growing. To help it speed along, I gently massaged her butt.

“Please, be gentle.”

“Lemme guess, you’re a virgin.”

“The previous two weren’t?”

“Lilah did Drake before they broke up, and Gwen fucks herself regularly.”

“...What.”

“Gwen’s intersex.”

Gina found the corresponding memories. “Ah. I didn’t know that. Kinky.”

I slowly pushed my way into my darling. Her labia began to slide around my penis until I was all the way inside her. Fun fact: the hymen is not a barrier as most people believe it is, but an elastic ring surrounding the vaginal canal. It was very comfy.

Gina purred. “Hm...this is nice, Doug. I think I could’ve used a lay a very long time ago. Ah…”

We continued fucking, until I eventually had to cum. And I did. Gina made a noise like “huahehuaheheh” as she orgasmed.

“I’m not going to get pregnant from this, am I?” she asked, worried.

“Nope, that can’t happen when time’s stopped.”

“That’s a relief. So what should we do next?”

“I’d happily take a footjob. If...that’s alright with you.”

“I think it might be. Sit down.” I lay on the floor; ow, my _back_ , the floor is stiff. Gina wiggled her black toes, then set to work. She sat on my chest, her back facing my face, her butt providing soothing warmth into my chest. She planted her palms on my shoulders to stabilize herself, then wrapped her feet around my cock, before proceeding to slide them up and down.

“This actually feels really nice,” Gina mused as she worked. “I should do this more often.”

“Yes please! I think you’ve got some of the best feet I’ve ever seen. Definitely in my top ten.”

“Awwww. Who’s the first?”

“DTL, hopefully.”

_Thanks so much, sweetie!_ I heard her say to me in my mind. DTL wasn’t quite ready to use her telepathy to introduce herself to the other girls just yet.

“The orange-eyed girl? She seems nice.”

“She is. Less talk, more footjob.…Please?”

“No no, it’s fine!” She continued the act in silence. The only sounds were our breathing and the slick noises of Gina’s feet on my cock.

I felt it coming. “Gina, I’m ready.”

“Then do it! Cum for me, my love!”

I did, semen erupting out and covering Gina’s feet in spunk. I was finally drained. She got off of me and looked at her feet, intrigued. “I don’t suppose you have a tissue handy?”

“Well, you could always just lick it off yourself.”

Gina stared at me. “Somehow that’s more appealing to me than it usually is.”

“That would be the lovecharming at work as well. Any fetishes the members of the harem have are shared among the rest.” I had learned much during summer break.

She nodded thoughtfully, then looked down at her feet. She brought her left one to her mouth and tentatively flicked her tongue across the tips of her toes. Suddenly something changed and she fervently began licking the cum off, suckling on her toes as she did. When her left foot was clean, she did the same for her right.

“That is _hot_ ,” I breathed.

“It was,” Gina agreed. She slid next to me and rubbed her feet against mine. “I think I could get used to this foot fetish thing. And to this life in general.”

“Well, destiny’s always a bit hard to fight, so why not join it?”

Gina smiled. “Why not indeed. Thank you for helping me back there, Doug.” She kissed my cheek. “I think I might love you.”

“I think I might too,” I said, kissing her on her own cheek. She sighed almost wistfully.

“So how are you going to get back?” she asked after I reclothed us.

“Simple. See that hollow mark over there? That’s where you were when time stopped; it’s your onion skin.” She didn’t seem to know what that was. “To make it seem like nothing happened you gotta go into your original position. Meanwhile, _I_ will walk home.”

“But that’s _really_ far from here!”

“Relax! When time’s stopped I never get tired. And it’s a straight line from here to home anyway.”

Gina nodded. “Well, in that case I guess it’s alright. Take care, Doug.”

“You too!”

And then I walked away while Gina got into her onion skin and froze.

* * *

I arrived at home what would normally be 110 minutes later in real time. I entered through the back door and checked the clock on the cablebox. 5:27. Good. I took off my shoes and went back to my room.

“I did it, Blorb! I had the strangest sneak-out evah! And it was great!” I picked him up and cuddled him to my chest. Then I restarted time, set him back on his little bed, and went back to looking at math problems online to better practice myself.

A few minutes later, I heard thumping, and _he_ slammed the door open. “Turn On the _Lights_ !” _he_ groaned, flicking the switch. “So,” _he_ growled, “What have You Been Doing?”

“Homework.”

“Did you Go?”

“No. I think it’s going on right now. At least, I think so because I have no idea how long that speech is gonna be.”

“True.” _He_ seemed satisfied that I (in _his_ eyes) hadn’t gone to something I’d enjoyed. But at the same time, I could feel that _he_ was dejected because _he_ wasn’t able to get me in trouble. I guess that came with being The Unchosen.

“Carry On.” _He_ left.

“That was too fucking close,” I sighed. But I’d gone and helped someone just as I’d wanted to. 

Three down, sixty to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gina has been incumbent Student Body President since 2017.
> 
> Doug has found his third lover and now knows why his father has been so cruel to him. Now what? Stay tuned to find out…
> 
> And please give me your lovely reviews! I’ll respond like so:
> 
> Person: Does Doug even need a harem?
> 
> Yes.


	5. Street Cred

September 5, 2019 AD.

Kikehuwet, Delaware.

Doug Vision

Gotta time this just right…

I carefully darted behind one of the support pillars for the school building. Why, you may ask? To scope out girls, of course. More accurately, a group of my friends in the Crew (a relatively large group of people, most of them of African descent) was approaching, and I wanted to ease into it.

The four girls approaching consisted of Taylor, the 5’4” African-American daughter of two local clothes designers and a very fashionable girl herself; Caitlin, a 5’6” Cherokee girl who loved punk rock (or any rock in general, really); Nadira, a 5’7” immigrant from Saudi Arabia, who tended to be quite paranoid; and Erin, the 5’7” token white girl of the Crew, mopey and shy.

Wait for it…

Now! I slunk out from the pillar as they neared me, just catching the tail end of their conversation.

“...and I just can’t believe it’s not butter!” Caitlin finished. “Oh, hey Doug! Didn’t see you there.”

“That was the point,” I said, smirking a bit. It’s always good to see people who don’t mind your strangeness.

“Wanna come with us? We’re trying to find Alyssa so Caitlin can tell her about that weird sauce she discovered yesterday,” Taylor said. “Supposedly it tastes  _ exactly _ like butter, yet it contains  _ none _ of it.”

“Hm, that  _ does _ sound weird.” I scooted myself into the middle of the now-five of us, between Nadira and Caitlin, and we resumed our search, this time in silence.

As we did, I took in their appearances. Such lovely girls they are. And if looks could kill, what they were wearing certainly would.

Caitlin was wearing a yellow t-shirt with purple spots, a salmon skirt, and tan size 8 flip-flops. Taylor was wearing a wide-sleeved black t-shirt with silver streaks on it, white shorts, and yellow-strapped size 7 ½ gladiator sandals. Erin was wearing a medium red t-shirt with white splotches (similar to my white-striped medium red t-shirt I had on), dark gray short shorts, size 9 sienna Rainbow flip-flops, and of course a bluish-purple bracelet on her left wrist and her malachite pendant. Nadira was wearing a whitish-gray hijab (as she always did), a white dress with tiny rose purple spots, and black gladiator sandals.

Wait a minute. I spotted a flash of color on her toes that seemed out-of-place. “Nadira?” I asked.

“Hm?” Her head immediately snapped to attention.

“Your nails. You did them.” Nadira’s fingernails and toenails were a matching white, something I’d never seen before on her.

“You don’t like it?”

“No, no! I do! I’ve just never seen you wear nail polish is all.”

Nadira smiled. “Thank you! And yes, this is my first time wearing it. I like it.”

“I thought your parents wouldn’t let you wear it because it was ‘western’,” Erin mumbled.

“They didn’t. Then we found out a few days ago that it’s not America enforcing its values on us at all. Because it turns out, nail polish is from  _ China _ . Centuries before either Christianity or Islam existed. So that made it okay in their eyes.” She sighed. “I’ve always wanted to do my nails, but I still don’t completely understand  _ why _ I wanted to.”

“I think nail polish adds a little touch of color that helps balance out your wardrobe,” Taylor said. “Like, take me. I’m wearing mostly black and white. But it’s not completely overwhelming because I have some extra color to balance it out.” Taylor’s fingernails and toenails were a matching scarlet.

“I say it worked. Ditto you two,” I added in Caitlin and Erin’s direction. Caitlin’s nails were a matching ruby red, Erin’s a glittery cobalt blue.

Taylor chuckled. “Well, at least  _ you _ notice. I’ve been doin’ my nails all this time and Chris hasn’t even said anything once.”

“And I appreciate the compliment. Life at home’s been rough now that my dad’s gotten his knee replaced, so it’s good to know there’s still some good left in the world,” Caitlin sighed.

“And I don’t get many compliments  _ ever _ ,” Erin said sadly.

“Well you should, you’re a pretty girl with a good heart. And Doug’s right, blue’s a great color for you,” Caitlin replied, putting her shoulder around her friend and embracing her. Erin smiled a little after this.

“It pays to be an artist,” I quipped. “You notice all the little things in life.” Caitlin quickly shot me a knowing look; she knew being an artist wasn’t the only reason I’d appreciated their nails.

We rounded a corner and that’s when we heard very loud and very annoying music. “Speaking of artists,” I grimaced.

Taylor retched. “Yuck. I never did get the appeal of rap. There’s just no...soul or anything in it!”

“I agree. Plus many of the people singing them just can’t. And the music is just so...repetitive it’s annoying,” I added.

“A little repetition in music is a good thing,” Caitlin reminded me, “but yeah, a carbon copy-and-paste gets old really quick. Why’s it even playing, anyway?”

We approached the main stairway down to the ground floor and found the reason. At its base, the rest of the Crew was huddled around two people. Rick, an old classmate of mine from elementary school, and Jaylen, who was as well but not someone I liked, as he tended to pick fights. Such as this one.

“Figures. Jaylen and Rick are having a rap battle,” Taylor grimaced. “Can’t Jaylen go one day without pissin’ someone off?”

“I don’t know. Honestly, what does Alyssa see in him?” Nadira agreed.

* * *

_ While the five teenagers weren’t looking, one of the janitors was mopping the floors. _

**_You are done now,_ ** _ said the voice in his head. _

_ The janitor thought nothing of it and left. Unfortunately, the voice had interrupted him right before he could put down the wet floor sign, or take his cart with him. _

_ The Malevolence chuckled darkly. _ **_This ought to be fun. I can feel it._ **

* * *

Doug Vision

“I dunno, but I don’t want to be  _ here _ ,” I said.

“Me either. I hate getting caught in these things,” Erin agreed. “We’ll catch you guys later, we don’t want to get involved.”

“Fair enough,” Taylor shrugged.

As Erin and I turned around though, I slipped on wet tiles and fell backwards into a janitor’s cart, which proceeded to roll down the stairs.

“DOUG!” the girls shrieked.

“Why – must – people – be – so – careless?!” I groaned, each time I hit a step interrupting me. Eventually I hit the last step, tumbled out of the cart, and lay flat on my back in silence.

Right in the middle of the rap battle.

“Doug? You okay, dude?” Rick asked.

“Ugh...I dunno...let me lie here and figure out whether or not I threw my back out.”

“No can do, we gotta make sure you’re okay,” an African-American girl named Umina said. She picked me up by the shoulders and whacked the middle of my spine, right below Thoracic 12.

_ Crack! _ “OW!” I groaned, before suddenly feeling a lot better.

Now that I was up, I noticed that a lot of the people there were giving me funny looks. “Uhhhh...I’m gonna go now...and leave you guys to...whatever it was you were doing before I came here…”

“Oh no you don’t,” Nadira said as she and the other three girls arrived. “We’ve got to get you to the nurse. What if your injury’s more serious than it looks on the outside?” See? I  _ told _ you Nad was paranoid.

“He didn’t land that hard, so I doubt it,” Rick mused. “But you’ve got a point, he  _ should _ see the nurse.”

“What he should do  _ first _ is apologize!” Jaylen growled.

“Apologize for what?” I asked timidly.

“For interrupting my rap battle! I was gonna win that before you showed up! Don’t you KNOW how important not interrupting someone’s rap battle is?”

“...No?”

Alyssa groaned. “Jesus Christ, Jaylen, he could’ve  _ died _ and THAT’S your biggest concern?!”

“Shut up, bitch.” Alyssa rolled her eyes and sighed angrily while he turned to face me. “If you ain’t gonna apologize, I’m gonna have to show you how a stupid white bull like yourself is never gonna be as cool as me.”

“How?” I wanted to comment on the racism in what he’d said, but figured it would be better for my longterm health if I kept my mouth shut.

“You and me. Tomorrow. Same time in the courtyard. I’m gonna have a rap battle against you, and I’M going to win.” He chuckled darkly. “Yo, let’s get out of here! Leave this dumbass autistic motherfucker already.”

Most of the people followed him, albeit reluctantly in most instances; I could tell by how they walked. Not Alyssa. Instead, she approached me.

“Doug, I sincerely apologize for getting you into this mess. He’s been a jerk lately and I don’t know what to do about it,” she said.

“I got a solution,” Taylor suggested. “Dump his sorry ass.”

“I WANT to, but it’s a bit hard because I’ve put a lot of thought into this relationship.” She sighed. “Fuck, what am I gonna do? Doug has no chance against Jaylen!”

“Because he’s white?” Nadira asked.

“Because I have no life,” I clarified. “Though the race thing is probably why Jaylen is so confident that he’s going to win.”

“What if Alyssa helped him?” Erin asked. We looked at her, intrigued. “Uh, I mean, Alyssa knows him better than anyone else, so, er–”

“Erin, that’s a wonderful idea!” Alyssa beamed. “I’m a librarian’s daughter who wins any pun war she gets herself into. Doug just needs a little coaching and the right material. Then we can burst Jaylen’s inflated ego once and for all and get done with this mess!”

“But nurse first?” I asked. The pain in my back was getting a little worse.

“But nurse first. Mind if I come over later today?”

“My father would, but I of course wouldn’t. I need a partner for the English project anyway.”

“Good call.” Alyssa helped me as I limped upstairs to the nurse’s office.

* * *

“Luckily there’s only some minor bruising on your lower back,” Nurse Oblinger said. I was lying down on my stomach on one of the beds there. “You’re both incredibly unlucky  _ and _ incredibly lucky to end up here in the state you’re in. I want you here for at least another ten minutes here lying on your stomach to give your back some time to rest up. Where are your things?”

“Put them in my next classroom,” I replied.

“Good thinking.” As she was leaving, a yellow flash rippled through the world and she froze mid-step.

“Guess Gwen’s in the mood,” I pondered.

“She is indeed.” I heard Gwen behind me. “My my, Doug, quite a compromising position you’re in.”

“Compromising? I nearly broke my spine!”

“Sheesh, I was just trying to flirt, no need to get huffy.”

“Flirting needs to be done with a bit higher class, Gwen.” Wait. Lilah was here too? I weakly turned my head around and saw them both. Gwen had her hair in a ponytail, held back with a dark yellow scrunchie. She was wearing a lilac tank top, light blue jorts, and her dark brown-strapped Gizeh Birkenstocks. Lilah was wearing an orange t-shirt, black tights, and white flip-flops.

“Both of you?” I asked.

“Yeah, well, y’know how the lovecharming’s turning me bi?” Lilah asked; I nodded. “Well, I talked to Gwen, and I think I’m ready to have my first time with a girl. Or half-girl, in Gwen’s case.”

“‘Half?’ Lancelot here’s barely half a  _ percent _ of my body mass,” Gwen objected indignantly.

“...you named your dick.”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“She’s right, mine’s Fender Bender,” I added.

“Weirdos,” Lilah scoffed playfully, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, I think Gwen might be a good place to start. Y’know, ease my way into it.”

“I agree, but I’m supposed to be lying on my stomach because of my back injury.”

“We can work with that!” Gwen said. “You get Lilah under you, and I get on top of you and give you a back massage.  _ And _ fuck your butt.”

“I’d  _ love _ to see that,” Lilah blushed.

“Then I guess it’s a go,” I said. I disrobed us using my powers. Lilah came to the bed and lay on her stomach. I rolled on top of her and guided my cock into her vag. Then I used my powers to clear out my anus, any contents that might’ve been there disappearing from existence altogether.

“It’s so cool how you can laser your shit out of the universe,” Lilah commented.

“Scat always has been the worst fetish,” I replied, gagging as soon as I’d said that. “Ready when you are, Gw–  _ oof _ ! I guess you were ready.”

Gwen was firmly buried in my anus. “You got it!” she chirped, before setting to work massaging my back, kneading into the bruises with her firm and surprisingly soft hands.

We spent six real-world minutes like that before I came inside Lilah, and Gwen inside me. Both girls disentangled themselves from me and stood behind the bed. “Thanks Gwen, my back feels better already.”

“And your butt looks even better,” Lilah murmured. Then she suddenly raced towards me before stopping at the back of the bed. She spread my buttcheeks with her hands and dove her tongue into my ass to scoop out some of Gwen’s semen. “Mf, Gwen, you taste pretty decent,” she said after she swallowed.

“I know! I suck my own, after all,” Gwen smirked. “But aren’t you going to...give me a little taste?” Lilah turned around, blushed, and nodded, and Gwen bent down to kiss her. It was  _ hot _ .

“Hey, can I have some Gwen too?” I asked.

“You may. Clean my ass.” I did so using my powers. “Lie on your back, the added pressure may help you.” I did, then Gwen sat on top of me, my cock in her butt. “Lilah sweetie, come here and scissor me, I’ve never done it.”

“That’s okay, me either,” Lilah replied, beet red. She got on top of Gwen, spread her legs, and shoved her vagina against hers. I couldn’t see much, but I saw the redhead groan happily.

“Can I suck your toes?” Gwen asked.

“Yeah, I was gonna ask if I could do yours too, your giant feet are actually really pretty...and super sexy...damn, why is lovecharming doing this to me?!”

“It’s just a harmless side effect of purification opening your mind and lovecharming making you realize how much you love someone. Not only do you wanna do the other girls in the harem, you get their fetishes too. It’s happening to me too, I had a fantasy of doing Gina in a public bathroom. One of yours, if I’m not mistaken,” I explained.

“Oh!” Lilah said as Gwen placed her feet on her breasts. “That’s alright, then.” She gingerly picked up Gwen’s big dogs and lovingly worshipped them, as Gwen did the same to her. Their pussies rubbing together while Gwen’s cock bounced around, and mine pulsed inside Gwen’s ass.

After another six real-world minutes, I came. Gwen quickly removed Lilah’s toes from her mouth and exchanged it for her own penis as she came. That last part finally drove Lilah over the edge, sticky girlish fluid splattering onto Gwen’s thick thighs.

“Well guys, we did it,” Gwen said as she hopped off. “Our very first threesome.”

“The first of many. I’m definitely needing those next ten minutes, ‘cause  _ I _ am  _ POOPED _ ,” I said, redressing us with my powers.

Gwen kissed me, then Lilah kissed me, then the girls kissed each other. “Bye babe!” Gwen said as they left.

“And good luck with your rap battle!” Lilah said.

“...How did she know about that?” I wondered.

* * *

Once time was resumed, the rest of the day proceeded normally. I left the nurse’s office and went to Spanish. It and Computer Design Honors proceeded normally. Finally, eighth-period English came. Alyssa and I were in the same class, so when the day ended it was easy for us to find each other.

  
“We’re going to  _ your _ house, right?” she asked as we packed our bags at the end of the period.

“Yep. Because my father’s lazy and my mother’s got a long drive home as it is.”

“Alright. I texted my parents, Dad’s picking me up at five. I’ll follow you to your bus.” I nodded in approval and once the bell rang, we left.

There were a total of 1578 students at Grant Academy that year, so there were a lot of buses contracted out to service it. The bus that led to my house was numbered 47. The silver bus (Wouldn’t it be cool if the number of the bus corresponded to an element on the periodic table? Or a molar mass, for larger numbers? And what if that number meant that was what the bus was made of? ...Oh, sorry, I’m getting sidetracked. Back to your regularly scheduled story).

Alyssa sat next to me, and I tried my best to ignore the fact that there was a girl sitting right next to me  _ and oh Zakochan her legs are touching my legs _

She looked at me and smiled. That day she was wearing a black t-shirt, dark gray cargo shorts, black short-top Converse fluorescent pink socks, and a white headband. Her fingernails were still the same mauve from earlier in the week. “You okay?” she asked.

“Y-yeah, just...nervous.” I sniffed the air and grimaced at the sort of burnt, sweaty human smell that surrounded us. “And it smells  _ weird _ in here.”

Alyssa sniffed her hand. “Oh, that’s probably me. I’ve been told that black people smell funny.”

“Well, there  _ is _ a distinct smell to African-origin ethnicities, but it’s nothing to worry about.”

“It isn’t?”

“No, the melanin content of your skin dictates what bacteria can live on your skin. And when your skin’s melanin content is high, the bacteria that secrete weird-smelling oils thrive the most.”

“Oh. Wow, that’s actually pretty cool.”

“Of course, the smell of humans  _ does _ vary from person to person regardless of race,” I added hastily.

“Nah, I gotchu. Jaylen smells the worst out of all of us,” she smirked. “Guess you could say...he’s  _ smellspawn _ .” We both laughed, but it grew silent in our seat soon after. As the trees blurred by, I began to think.

Why  _ was _ Alyssa still dating Jaylen, even though everyone, including her, knew how bad he was? He was rude, violent, selfish, and a total slacker. Alyssa was none of those things. In fact, most of the Crew weren’t any of those things. So why were they still letting him be a presence in their lives?

I’d have to ask her once we got home.

* * *

“Nice place you got here,” Alyssa mentioned as we entered my house. “How’d you manage to afford it?”

“Mom got it for cheap after med school and fixed it up herself,” I replied.

“Huh. No  _ wonder _ your father wanted to marry her. He wouldn’t have to do any work at all!”

“And yet  _ he _ still insists that home repair is a ‘Man’s Job’.”

After we set our stuff down, I took my sneakers off. “I guess that’s the rule here,” Alyssa said to herself, taking her own off as well. Through the thin fabric of her socks, I could see that her toenails were painted some very dark color.

She  _ did _ know about my foot fetish, but this wasn’t the time or place to indulge in that. She was here to help me with a project and with a rap battle, nothing more. Plus, she was in a relationship and while I definitely didn’t respect the guy I did respect the establishment.

“DOUGLAS!”  _ He _ slunk out from the kitchen.  _ His _ eyes narrowed. “What is that Girl doing Here?”

“I’m here to help your son with an English project,” Alyssa replied coolly. “Two people have to write about what a character in  _ The Great Gatsby _ would do if they had the internet at the time.”

“But that Makes No Sense! That book was Set Before the Internet  _ Existed _ !”

“It’s called a thought experiment,” I grumbled. “You  _ did _ notice the operator ‘if’ in that sentence, right?”

“That is an Outrageous Waste of Time. And Why it Needs Two People is a Bad Idea. Let Me Tell You Something–”

“ _ No _ ,” Alyssa snapped. “We don’t have the time for your lectures. We need to get this project,  _ and _ all our other homework, done  _ quickly _ . C’mon Doug, let’s get to work.”

As we went upstairs, we heard  _ his _ bellows and roars. “You Can’t Do This! I’m the Father, I’m Always Right! You’re going to Fail if you Don’t Accept My Help! You know what, Do It On Your Own and Fail Miserably, You Little Cunts!”

Once we entered my room and I closed the door, Alyssa looked at me, her coal-black eyes wide. I could even see her pupils, which had shrunk to tiny peppercorns. “...Is he always this insane?”

“Lately,  _ he’s _ been a little more so.”

“Eesh, I feel bad for you. And I can’t help but feel that he was gonna call me a nigger.”

“He wouldn’t be racist to an African-American. Not publicly, at least. Asians are a different story though.”

Alyssa sighed and studied my room. I gulped as I fretted about her reaction to me still having toys like a little kid. “I suppose that’s the famous Blorb,” she said on looking at my bed at the cuttlefish.

“He is indeed,” I said. “Please don’t touch him.”

“Dude, I know about boundaries! I got four little siblings, we’ve gotten that talk lots of times,” she said, extending her arm reassuringly. Luckily, she knew that I wasn’t too fond of being touched, so she modified the gesture and kept her hand off of my shoulder. “And I’m not gonna knock you for having your old toys still around, I do too. A lot of people do, actually.”

“Thank nonexistent God that you’re reasonable,” I replied, greatly relieved. She laughed and we got to work.

The actual writing, which we did on our school laptops via Google Docs, only took twenty minutes. We decided that we would write about Nick reporting Tom’s adultery and his abuse of Myrtle to the world. Tom was unanimously decided by both of us to be a douche. I promised myself that I would never become that kind of person to my harem. I noticed the unsettling parallel between him and Jaylen, and briefly pondered how likely it was that Jaylen was cheating on Alyssa, before dismissing that idea as too unlikely.

Then we helped each other with our other homework. And good thing we did that, too, because I wasn’t able to understand Mechanics as well as she could. Mostly that was because she didn’t know about my powers, therefore I wasn’t able to use them to help out. It sucked that because of the Malevolence’s omnipresence, I couldn’t reveal my powers to the world except for a select few who could handle the weight of the truth.

Such was life, and such was what I was used to.

“Okay, that’s done,” Alyssa sighed. “Now, let’s get down to business.”

“To defeat the Huns?”

She snorted. “ _ Ha! _ Now if this challenge was a Disney-singing contest and not a rap battle, you’d win it with no questions asked. And no doubt about it, Mulan is an AMAZING movie.”

“So was the rest of the 1990s Disney Renaissance. Well, except for Hercules, that butchered mockery of Grecian culture.”

“Anyway, we gotta prepare you for the rap battle. These usually feature attacks on someone’s personality or appearance.”

“Well, if he’s going to mock the scars, he’s not going to get anywhere,” I replied, looking at the web of marks on my arms and legs. “I have them out all the time and don’t really care if people see them.”

“Yes, he’ll need to find other ways to…make his marks!” She chuckled, then stopped abruptly. “That wasn’t too mean, was it?”

“Nah, it’s okay. Wish Fatass  _ hadn’t _ given me them, though.”

Alyssa sighed. “Doug, you  _ have _ to call child services on him!”

“I’ve talked to them directly. No one listens.” Stupid Malevolence always ruining everything for me.

“Oh…” She shook her head sadly. “Let’s move on to something else. Jaylen’s gonna try and overwhelm you, so you have to be ready to fight back.”

“But...I barely know the guy. What’s his personality like?”

“A stereotype,” Alyssa answered quickly. Well, that explained what I already knew. “Aggressive. Headstrong. Belligerent.”

“And his singing style?”

“Simplistic. Ditto his vocabulary.”

“Hm...if I can adopt a more complex style, then I  _ could _ stand a chance of beating him via confusion.”

“Good idea! But we need to find some inspiration for your song first so you have something to base it off of. What are your thoughts on John Legend? Not really a rapper, but he’s a good singer in my book.”

“No. I agree with you, but his songs make me sad.”

“Gotcha. That’s a no then. Macklemore?”

“He’s great! His songs are well-written, funny, exactly my kind of style!”

“Then I suppose your search was... _ Swift _ !”

“It’s  _ Taylor _ -made for my personality!”

“You’re going to  _ shake it up! _ ”

“Because his mind’s a  _ blank space! _ ”

“ _ Everything has changed _ now!”

“ _ Twenty-two! _ ”

We laughed. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun with someone without me messing it up unintentionally and alienating them.

“Oh, Doug…” Alyssa sighed, shaking her head and smiling at me sadly. “It should’ve been you.”

I looked at her, confused. “Should’ve been for what?”

“My boyfriend.”

I flushed a bit. So  _ she _ was next in line? Hm, she was resisting lovecharming pretty thoroughly if that was the case. But I shook my head to clear those bulittle thoughts away. “What? What do you mean by that?”

“You know how I started dating Jaylen last March? Well, I’d wanted a boyfriend for a long time, y’know, someone I can vent to who really understands me.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

“By then I’d narrowed it down to two people. In one corner, Jaylen, who’s been my neighbor since we were little kids. In the other corner, you, the newcomer, a complete dork with an IQ of 144 and a big heart.”

“So why Jaylen?”

Alyssa raised her hand, the underside facing me. “The palms of my hands and the soles of my feet are this light sandy color. The same color as your entire body.”

“I don’t get it.”

She sighed. “We’re not the same race, Doug! Mixed couples still don’t get 100% approval from everyone. The pressure to stay within your own lines is...it’s really, er, intense.

“A lot of it’s from people at school who are afraid of something different from what they know. A little’s from my parents; they grew up in South Africa during Apartheid and that fear that who you love is going to get you beaten up really stuck with them. And…”

“If there’s one thing I learned from fighting Alvin, it’s that you can’t actively go for anyone’s approval but your own,” I interrupted. “I didn’t do it for fame and glory like that Mr. Simmons guy who stole the credit from me. I did it because there were small children that Alvin was going to kill, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t save their lives.”

Alyssa looked at me and nodded. “Oh, y-you want me to continue?” I asked. “In that case, I think that ultimately the only person who can decide big important things about your life, about yourself, is ultimately you. You wanna be the opposite sex? That’s fine! Just don’t make fun of other people who don’t share your opinion.”

She sighed. “Very profound, dude. But it’s just so hard to tune out what other people say and think.”

“I know,” I said, looking at the scars on my arms, a constant reminder of what  _ he _ thought of me. “I know.”

* * *

Even with her help, I still didn’t have a good idea about what to do tomorrow. It was 4:58 when Alyssa finally packed up to get ready to leave.

Which happened to be right when Mom came home. “Oh, hello Alyssa!” she smiled. “What are you doing here?”

“Helping your son with a project. Nice to see you again too.” Muttering, she quietly added “Which is more than I can say for the fat tub of lard.”

Mom gulped. “Yeah…”

A car honked outside. “See you later, everyone!” Alyssa said as she left, opening the door, hopping into the red 8th generation Chevrolet Impala, which drove out of sight.

“Good Riddance!”  _ he _ grumbled, rousing himself from the couch.

“Oh, hush, Doug’s allowed to have people over.”

“Not if it’s a  _ Girl _ !”

Mom paused. “...Why was she here though?”

“She already told you,” I replied bluntly.

“Oh! Right!” Mom had a habit of forgetting some things.

“And she’s NOT interested. She has a boyfriend. This whole thing was completely platonic.”

“Hmph!” was all  _ he _ could say.

And all I could think about was what Alyssa had said earlier.

* * *

“This is bad,” I said to DTL that night.

“How’s it bad? Someone likes you and they admitted it to you without having to get it lovecharmed out of them,” she replied.

“Because ALYSSA has one thing that Gwen and Gina didn’t, and that Lilah  _ did _ right before her induction: she’s already in a relationship.”

“Oh…” She clicked her tongue. “I know that pain. A lot of the girls I liked growing up got boyfriends, and seeing that broke my heart. Though not as much as when they found out I’m gay and began making fun of me for it.”

“There will be instances when destiny gets in the way of preexisting relationships,” Cataluka admitted.  “However, there are many ways that a crisis will be averted. Consent is precious in our culture, for when the first of us were created we were not allowed that luxury.

“Most of the time, a relationship consisting of a harem member and an outside person will fragment not long before the former’s induction. Sometimes, though, the relationship will have been dissolved a very long time ago. Rarely, two harem members will be in a relationship with each other, and their inductions will simply add to their relationship, forging new paths between them and the rest of the harem.”

“But...what if they’re both lesbians and not bisexual?” I asked. Cataluka paused tentatively before she answered.

“I...do not know. True homosexuality is rare among Zakochan. But I suppose you might find the answer to that question in due time.”

That last bit weirded me out, but I guessed it was only natural given that they got to see fate itself and whatnot. “Okay, different subject. Any of you have an idea on how to win the rap battle?”

“I don’t like rap, so no. Sorry, sweetie,” DTL apologized. “But I remember you singing back in the summer, not long after we met. I think your voice is beautiful.”

“Thanks, babe. I needed that encouragement.” I sighed.

It was good to know that at least someone else was on my side too.

* * *

I still didn’t have material for the song, though. “I am NOT ready for what’s going to be the strangest rap battle evah,” I grumbled.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine!” Wendell, a chatty boy and my closest male friend, said as he tried to reassure me. “Just don’t let him get to you.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Yeah, I guess, what with you being you and all.” We continued to roam the hallways during advisory. Suddenly, as we passed the windows overlooking the courtyard, we heard something.

Looking out the window we saw something hidden in a corner of the courtyard, obscured by the walls around it. Changing our angle a bit, we saw Jaylen, his arms wrapped around a pudgy Latina girl in a magenta shirt whose sleeves were  _ much _ too long for this heat.

“That’s not Alyssa,” I managed to get out. No one else was in the hallway right now, so we were alone in our revelation.

“No, that’s definitely Fatima,” Wendell said. I’d figured it was her due to her build and hairstyle, so this just confirmed my suspicions. Fatima was a dimwitted and shallow girl who’d often taunted me during gym from the half of the class doing team sports. “Oh crap, we’ve got to tell Alyssa about this! This is really bad! Jaylen’s all about being possessive yet he’s going back on his own word, and–”

“Dude, calm yourself. Leave this all to me.”

“What do you mean?”

I chuckled darkly. “I think I’ve got the perfect material for my rap battle.” Wendell’s eyes lit up and he clapped enthusiastically.

* * *

“Okay everyone, here’s da rules!” Rick announced. After everyone had eaten we’d met in the courtyard, me and the entire Crew. Some other people were watching as well. “I want a good, clean rap battle! Minimal cussing, and if you do it ya gotta be creative. I also want no hollerin’ from the peanut gallery, no gettin’ physical with each other, and  _ absolutely _ no discriminatory language!”

“KICK HIS ASS WITH YOUR TONGUE, DOUG!” Gwen exclaimed from somewhere behind all of that. My tiny little harem had come to watch us.

“Is she always like this?” I heard Lilah ask, to which Gina replied, with an audible sigh, “Yes, she  _ is _ .”

Caitlin pulled out a speaker and had it start playing a simplistic beat. Jaylen sniggered and looked at me.

_ You’re nothing but a little shithead _

_ You really can’t do that much _

_ You really think you can go against me? _

_ Well now, you’re wrong. _

_ Ah, I, _

_ Gotta lotta more talent than you. _

_ Gonna win this battle, not you. _

_ You’re a loser, Doug, just a loser, Doug. _

_ You can’t seem to do anything right, _

_ Never gonna have a girlfriend to hug you at night. _

Everyone looked at me as Jaylen continued to get in my face. I waited for the right moment to strike back.

_ Do you really think you can win? _

_ You don’t got any hope, you son of a bitch. _

_ You’re just a dork and a dweeb, and also a weeb. _

_ And I’m gonna win this! _

“Nope!” I replied. I snapped my fingers and the music changed to something similar to  _ Can’t Hold Us. _

“How did he DO that?!” a boy named Pierre asked.

“MY turn,” I smirked, before launching into my stanzas.

_ So you really think you can outdo me, you vainglorious ingrate? _

_ Well, now it’s time to take a little lesson in Latin, my surname “Magnum” means that I’m great! _

_ I’ve seen the face of suffering, I have bad luck’s home phone number, _

_ And I’ve got the inkling of a feeling that you’re gonna go under. _

_ Not because of race, and not because of class, _

_ But because I’ve got the vocabulary with which to whoop your ass! _

_ I’ve got the scars to prove that I’ve known hardship every day of my life, _

_ And how would YOU know that I’ll never find a wife? _

_ I think I stand a chance, at the dance of romance, _

_ Because I’m kind and considerate, or at very least I try. _

_ But YOU, however, just get caught up all in your lies – _

_ You’ve just earned yourself the next feature _

_ On the Mijuu-Bijuu “How to Catch a Cheater”! _

Everyone stared at me in shock, then slowly looked over at Jaylen, who was sweating bullets and glaring at me, murder in his eyes (and his smell. Ye  _ gads _ , he stank). Alyssa seemed especially surprised, and also a little hurt. I continued, never breaking eye contact with my opponent.

_ Yeah, that’s right, I know what I saw. _

_ You and Fatima sharing kisses up against the back wall. _

_ And there’ll be one giganticnormous consequence to this right here reveal: _

_ Alyssa, you’ve been scorned, so how do YOU feel? _

She gulped. Then, suddenly, she stood taller. “I feel angered. Betrayed. And relieved, too, because now I’ve got the chance to do something I should’ve done a very long time ago.” She glared at Jaylen, who had gone from murderous to actually a bit fearful. “Jaylen, we’re done.”

“WHAT?!” he exclaimed. “You can’t be serious!”

“Oh yes she can!” Caitlin barked. “C’mon gang, let’s leave this hypocrite to his fate.”

“I couldn’t agree more!” a massive, towering boy named Orson said. They left, leaving me, Alyssa, Jaylen, and the peanut gallery.

“I’ll get you for this,” Jaylen growled, before slinking away.

“Well, that happened,” I said, shaking my head briefly. “You okay?”

Alyssa nodded. “Thanks, Doug. You’re right, only we can decide what’s right for ourselves. And for others. We should’ve done more to keep you from having to go through this.”

“Well, if I hadn’t, then you’d still be dating a guy who’s been cheating on you.”

She sighed. “Fatima, of all people. Though I  _ do _ suppose she’s more his type, I wish he hadn’t resorted to going out with her behind my back. I couldn’t help but feel he was afraid of me because I knew things. Again, doesn’t excuse what he did, but he’s got a motivation.”

“That  _ is _ an unfortunate tendency, but I don’t think he was necessarily  _ afraid _ of you, per se. I think he just liked having a girl he could boss around and you weren’t her.”

“Well...could I be yours? Without the bossing-around part, I mean?”

Thinking quickly, I stopped time. “Yeah, you can.” She walked over and we shared a quick kiss. Then we experimented a little more, small kisses becoming larger, until we ended up sharing one that was very long and very,  _ very _ passionate.

When we both needed air, we parted ways. Alyssa’s cheeks were subtly darker than before with a blush. “Wow, I just...wow. You seem more experienced than just that one kiss you had when you were six or something.”

Oh, nuts. She might react badly to the harem thing. “Uh...I am? See those three over there?”

Alyssa turned around and saw Gwen, Lilah, and Gina, frozen in time. “I do – wait, why aren’t they moving?”

“Because time stopped.”

“So they’re...out of time?” We snickered, before she realized the implications and her expression contorted to one of horrorshock. “No, wait, shit, this is serious! And...why are you so nonchalant about it?”

I sighed and did a memory transfer. Alyssa blinked. “Doug, do  _ they _ know about this?” she asked, a little angry.

“Of course they do! Consent’s a big deal for me. Those two,” I continued, pointing to Lilah and Gwen, “actually did each other yesterday. With me.”

“Huh,” Alyssa pondered, sounding greatly relieved (somehow). She shrugged. “Welp, I’m not gonna get any younger. Doug, I’d like for you to take me.”

“You seem to have adjusted to the truth really well.”

“Hey, it’s like you told Orangeglo over there,” she said, pointing to Lilah. (Note to self: don’t let Lilah hear her say that.) “You make too much love for one girl to handle alone, so you spread it around to others.” She sighed. “I’ll tell you this, you make me a  _ lot _ happier than Jaylen did. Why  _ didn’t _ I just date you from the start?”

“Because the Malevolence cast doubt into your mind,” I replied. “I purified you when you made fun of Liz on Wednesday. You realizing you were in the wrong then? My doing. The Malevolence will do anything it takes to prolong its own existence. That includes ruining lives.”

“So not only is it responsible for poor judgement, it’s responsible for racism itself?” Alyssa asked. Her eyes widened. “Wow, what  _ was _ South Africa like in the previous timelines?”

“I don’t know, the Dewiantow only found Earth in Cycla Ultima, this one,” I replied. “But I’m sure they have ways of finding out. Now,  _ are _ we gonna do it?”

“Yeah, we are, I just wanted to work through some stuff first.” She took off her black t-shirt, revealing a matching bra. She took that off, too, revealing her modest breasts and enticing dark nipples. “Motorboat?”

“Uh...what’s motorboating, exactly?”

“Put your mouth on my boobs and blow. I’ve heard it  _ really _ tickles.”

We walked over to the adult playground (Oh, I didn’t mention that? Gina had it installed last year to give us teenagers something stimulating for our minds. Basically, it’s a little kids’ playground thingamablep, only scaled up) and we sat on one of the steps. I planted my face into her chest and blew a raspberry into the base of her left one. She laughed.

Then I got an idea. After doing the same for her right breast, I planted my lips on her right nipple, then blew into it. The vibrating felt really nice, and Alyssa’s laughs turned into groans of pleasure.

We got off the step and lay on the grass beneath it. I took off her shoes, then removed her lime green socks, confirming that her toenails were painted a dark brown color, and began kissing her soles and licking her toes. “Wow, this feels great!” she purred. “Hey Doug, if it’s not too weird, can I do yours?”

I blushed and nodded slightly. “Aw, cutie!” She removed my shoes and socks herself. “Not bad, Doug. Yours are prettier than Jaylen’s at the very least.” She began worshipping my feet while I did hers. I had to admit, it felt great, and I wish Gina and Lilah would work up the courage to do the same. But I was happy to let them adjust and grow at their own paces.

Eventually, she stopped, and placed the spit-slick soles of her feet against mine. It was my first time playing real footsie, I realized, and I liked it. But that was only the start.

She moved her left foot up my legs and rubbed it against my swelling cock. Undoing my shorts, she exposed my cock. “Uncircumcised?  _ Nice _ .” She moved her right foot up to the same position, then jacked me off. I sighed happily.

Then I had another idea. “‘Lyssa, can you open  _ your _ pants?”

She got what I was implying and unzipped her khaki shorts, pulling them down, and shifting her maroon panties to the side, revealing her dark vagina. I moved closer to her and rubbed my right heel against it. Alyssa blushed even harder now, almost all of her cheekbones a dark, mudstone brown with increased blood flow. Zakochan, she was  _ beautiful _ .

I was so lucky to have met her.

Eventually, I came onto her feet, and she onto mine. She wasn’t as much of a squirter compared to Gina, more similar to Lilah and Gwen in that regard. After licking my cum off her feet, she suddenly turned around and began sucking me off.

“ _ Someone’s _ hot and bothered,” I remarked.

“Yep!” Alyssa said, pausing momentarily.

“Guess you couldn’t resist, huh?”

“Yeah, and besides, I’m no... _ pussy _ !” She did a handstand, swung herself around, then plopped her hips onto my face. She resumed blowing me as I now began eating her out.

How the  _ fucketh _ did she get that  _ strong _ , though?

We did oral on each other for about seven minutes realtime before cumming into each other’s mouths. “You just can’t stop, can you?” Alyssa asked. “Not that I mind or anything.”

“My powers increased my stamina, so no,” I replied. “Ready for the finishing blow?”

“Didn’t I just do that?” she asked cheekily.

“You know what I mean.”

Alyssa nodded and got on her hands and knees. I sat up and slowly pushed my way into her folds. She suddenly moaned in ecstasy. With one fell swoop, I took another girl’s virginity.

“Unh! So  _ this _ is what sex feels like!” she moaned. “All I’ve ever known was, oh you’re so  _ good _ , was my fingers.”

“Is this better than that?”

“MUCH!”

I continued pounding her for a solid nine minutes realtime. I took note of the time; my stamina appeared to be getting even higher. A clear indication to me that the more I was loved, the stronger I became as a whole.

Eventually, though, I couldn’t keep it up much longer, and I came inside of her. “Uh, Doug? Will I get pregnant from this?” she asked, worried.

“Nope. Doesn’t work when time’s stopped.”

“Oh, goodie.” I reclothed us both and restarted time. “See you later, Doug.”

“You too!” And I left, strutting away triumphantly.

Four down, fifty-nine to go.

* * *

Alyssa Vision

I snickered. Doug was one weird guy. But alas, he was cute. What was a girl to do?

Suddenly, something occurred to me. The memories he’d put in my head...were hard to get a grip on, to be honest. Just the realization that the entire world had been born so many times...and yet this time and the last one immediately before it were the only ones that weren’t the same…

There were other things too, things that I don’t think Doug intended for me to see. Looking around, I saw Gwen, Lilah, and Gina in the courtyard with me. And no one else. By the looks of it, unless the security cameras started recording sound, I would be free to converse with them.

“Hey guys,” I said, cautiously approaching them.

“You too?” Gina asked; I nodded. “Well, if I may be so bold, I approve of you joining us.”

“Yeah,” Lilah agreed, punching my shoulder playfully. “You’re  _ awesome! _ ”

“Not sure if that’s proper usage of the word, but thanks!” I paused. “Uh...you guys saw what he tried to do, right?”

“What do you mean by–” She froze, and then winced. “ _ Oh _ . Yeah, we did. I feel really bad for him, just...he wanted to end his life, and there’d be nothing we could do about that.”

“Because others wanted his life ended,” Gwen pointed out. “And...before that day, I don’t think anyone had done a very good job of making him feel loved. Even his mom, from what I think he’s said, for him it just feels...empty. Like, he thinks we don’t  _ mean _ it when we say we love him. I don’t know if that’s the autism, or if that’s depression.”

“Well, Erin’s kind of the same way, and she’s neurotypical, so I think it’s the latter.” I sighed. “Should we confront him about this?”

“Not yet,” Gina replied. “His mental health is personal to him, and him alone. If he wants to discuss it with us, that’s his choice to make. Not ours. But I do agree that we need to keep close watch on him and try to bolster his self-esteem whenever we can.”

“And if he does something stupid?” I asked.

“We break that news to him gently. Although judging by his lessons from the strangers with three eyes, he’s going to learn how to not do the stupid.”

I nodded. “And I’ll help in any way I can. For his sake...and for everyone’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The purpose of the harem is to keep the Chosen in check, and vice-versa.
> 
> Doug has found his fourth lover and is grappling with the implications that he might be breaking up some couples (for the better, of course, but still). Now what? Stay tuned to find out…
> 
> Review time!
> 
> tymofey: I've always found it weird that in erotic literature people aren't making weird noises during sex.


	6. Field of Wet Dreams

September 9, 2019 AD.

Kikehuwet, Delaware.

Doug Vision

I was dreaming. I still had those even with the telepathy. Right now, I was just...floating there, in an endless sea of light blue-green.

A purple felt top hat floated vertically up to my head before stopping. I was compelled to pick it up and put it on. After I did, a bunch of triangular brown objects appeared and began orbiting around me in a ring. I quickly realized they were rotisserie chicken thighs.

“ _ Definitely _ one of my weirder ones,” I commented. The thighs suddenly disappeared. An armoire-sized Atlantic razor clam rose from the “floor” beneath me and opened like curtains. A nude Sarah walked out of it. “Uh…”

Dream!Sarah smiled at me. “Why hello there, hot stuff,” she cooed. “I have to say, you’re looking a little...hot and bothered. Want me to help you with that?”

“Uh...sure! Sure. I would.” The dream version smiled and got on her knees, unzipping my pants and rummaging around to pull out my dick.

“Oh! So  _ handsome. _ ” Very quickly, she put it into her mouth and suckled, making big doe eyes at me as she did. She looked so cute, and felt so warm. In the real world I probably had morning wood.

She released me and then climbed up me, stopping to kiss me, then continued until her pussy was in my face. I eagerly licked at her, stopping to spit out a stray black hair.

Dream!Sarah chuckled nervously. “Sorry...should I shave?”

“Just make sure there aren’t any lice or anything in there and I’m good,” I replied through her. Then I sat her down and began worshipping her feet, suckling away at her periwinkle toes. She giggled at that.

I lowered her feet and pulled her close to me before pushing into her, draping her legs over my back and holding her tight. She groaned as we fucked…

And immediately after we came, she quickly got off of me, said “The golden chalice rises in the window tonight,” hopped on a common dolphin, and floated away.

The normal dreamscape quickly returned; once more, I was just my eyes. DTL and Cataluka were there too, looking at me, confused. “Holy crap!” I exclaimed. “That had to be one of my strangest wet dreams evah!”

“What was?” DTL asked.

I copied my memory of the dream and gave it to her. She blushed beet red. “Oh...oh  _ my _ …” She cried out, before weakly opening her eyes, obviously frowning in annoyance. “Annnnnnnnnnnd there goes my last pair of clean pajama pants.”

“Yeah, I might need to get off sometime this morning,” I replied sympathetically. “Hopefully one of the girls will be in the mood. But that dream, though...is it an omen or some shit?”

“In my home country of Miejsce Niedopałków, we believed that elements in particularly vivid dreams were guaranteed to show up in one form or another later on in the day they were had on,” Cataluka replied.  “Perhaps this will be true of your dream as well. After all, the universe likes to repeat itself whenever it can; it saves time and energy.”

“Like copy-pasting in Photoshop so I don’t have to draw both hands!” I finished.

“Yes, I suppose so. Oh, I do believe it is time for you both to wake up. Goodbye, my pupils.” And Cataluka’s eyes sank into the floor, disappearing with a flash of celeste blue light.

“Bye sweetie,” DTL murmured, pressing her eyes against mine before disappearing too.

Then I woke up.

* * *

“You look bewildered like a Bewilderbeast,” Mom commented as she handed me my bagel. “What’s up?”

“I had a weird dream,” I replied. “I was wearing a top hat, surrounded by floating chicken thighs, and Sarah came out of a razor clam to tell me something about a chalice rising in a window this coming night, and then she left on a dolphin.” I deliberately left out the erotic parts.

“You call  _ that _ weird?” Mom chuckled. As I ate, she continued. “Well, everything seems to be in place for the charity water balloon fight later today. Now if only I could remember where I put my sunglasses…”

“Mom, you’re already wearing them.”

She slid them down from her forehead. “Oh! So I am.”

I hoped she wasn’t forgetting anything else important.

* * *

_ After her son left for the bus, Nya quickly patted herself down. “Okay, I’ve got my keys, my wallet, my phone, and the balloons are in my bag. I think I’ve got everything.” She opened the door and walked over to her car, a black first generation Ford Fusion, and drove to her office. _

_ Back home, Bond lumped down the stairs. “Why couldn’t I have Come Here earlier?” he griped. “They need to Know things that will Help them. Things only  _ I _ know.” _

_ He paused. Once, a voice in his head would’ve agreed with him and told him what to do about his problem. But the voice had gone quiet the day Doug had his party with that stupid Arthurian-named blonde dyke, never to speak a word to the man again. Bond for the life of him didn’t know why, but concluded that Doug had found out about the voice and silenced it just to make his poor old father unhappy. Well, if that was true, then Doug would have Hell to pay. _

_ He spotted something on the table. He lumbered over; it was a thing Nya had bought for her charity water balloon fight. What would thin little straws be good for in a water balloon fight? Whatever it was, it had to be important. And she’d forgotten it here, the dumbass ex-whore. _

_ Bond smirked at his idea. “You WILL be sorry for giving him ideas.” And he ripped it apart with an evil grin. _

* * *

Doug Vision

I got off the bus and walked inside. People were looking at me funny.  _ What’s with them? _ I thought.

“Is that really him?” I turned around to see two freshmen boys looking at me in awe. “Is that really the guy who exposed Jaylen?”

“Yes, and I  _ don’t _ know who you are, so please,  _ stop _ talking to me,” I retorted. They fell silent and I continued on.

Did I handle that right? Probably not, but I was too bothered at the moment to care.

Outside of Room 222 I heard female giggling. Judging by the sounds of their voices, it was a gaggle consisting of the Triad plus Abby, the second-youngest of the Issawri quadruplets, and Xuan Phan, a Vietnamese girl in my advisory who wrote decent (if laggy) fanfiction.

I rounded the corner and saw them, and they stopped their giggling upon seeing me. “Hey Doug, you were right! This  _ is _ a great color!” Lilah grinned. She was wearing a black t-shirt with thin white and light blue stripes, white short shorts, and gladiator sandals. Her fingernails and toenails, which she proudly flaunted at me, were both painted a bluish-green color.

“So I was,” I grinned.

“Ooh, Lilah, you’re certainly getting close to Doug~” Carly teased. She was wearing a black tank top, red-and-black plaid shorts, and cream size 8.5 Vans slip-ons with no visible socks. Her fingernails were peach.

“Hey, Doug’s nicer than half the guys in our grade. Why  _ wouldn’t _ I be close to him?” Lilah asked impertinently.

“I dunno...Bridgette, help me out here.”

“Sorry Carls, but you’re on your own here,” Bridgette smirked playfully. She was wearing a yellow t-shirt with black stripes, billowy silver pants, and wide-strapped black flip-flops with neon green accents. Her fingernails were the same red from last week, albeit chipping. Her toenails, it turned out, were painted a metallic coppery-pink color; rose gold, I think it’s called. Or something like that. She had her hair back too, tied up with a mauve scrunchie that made her look really cute.

“Anyway,” Lilah said, “what’s shakin’, bacon?”

“I think the paper wants me to interview the girl’s soccer team for...I dunno,” I shrugged. It was true; I’d gotten the email yesterday. “Guess I’ll see what they want when I get there.”

“Hopefully nothing too weird,” Xuan commented. She was wearing a dark purplish-red polo t-shirt with a black skirt and matching size 9.5 flats. Her fingernails were white. “Then again, they’ve got Gwen, so…”

“You say that like that’s a bad thing,” Abby said timidly. She was wearing an indigo v-neck t-shirt, a dark gray short skirt, and black size 8 sneakers with white socks. Her fingernails were black and her lips were a dull, muted brown that complimented her dark skin.

“Nah, Gwen’s cool. In a weird, sunshine through a thick block of glass kinda way,” Xuan shrugged. I took the opportunity to purify her of a pecan-sized lump of Malevolence. I hoped that I’d find a more diverse range of sizes that these pieces came in soon, I was about to run out of nuts.

Pun  _ not _ intended.

“Yeah, she is,” Bridgette said. “Anyway, I gotta go to my advisory before they mark me late. C’mon Carly, let’s go.”

“Okay! See you guys later!” Carly said, following her. Abby left to go upstairs to hers, and Xuan left for ours, Lilah and I tailing her.

Lilah looked at me and winked. I saw the green in her eyes and stopped time. “You want a quickie?” I asked.

“Yeah, of a different color. Speaking of, I hope you understand that I couldn’t get your green.” She grimaced. “It’s not a very popular color apparently.”

“I figured as much, but what you have is alright.” She sighed, relieved. “So what did you want to do?”

“Foot stuff. Y’know, to explore it and all that. Can I see  _ your _ feet?”

“As the ginger wishes.” I took off my shoes and socks, and Lilah removed her own sandals. She scooted over and touched the tips of her toes to mine. We both blushed.

“Y’know, you should have your feet out more often,” she said suddenly, looking up at me as my eyes widened after processing this.

“Y-you do?” I stammered.

“Yeah, you’ve got the sexiest feet I’ve ever seen on a guy! And you should do your nails too, it’d look good on you.”

“Uh...maybe after my father’s dead?”

“Oh, right…” An awkward silence. “Anyway! Let’s just keep going.” She sat on the floor, I followed. She extended her legs and, figuring out what she wanted, I put my soles against hers.

“Did you see Bridgette’s feet?” I asked as we proceeded to footsie.

“Yeah, I kinda get why you think they’re cute. You gonna compliment ‘em?” Our toes interlocked in that very moment, sending a shudder of pleasure up my spine, growing my erection.

“Of course I am. She needs to know that she’s got good taste and talented hands.”

“Oh,  _ that’s _ why you do it? Aw, that’s cute.” She scooted over closer and pushed her feet into my face, our genitals brushing against each other. I could feel the growing wetness of her lady bits as they rubbed against my testicles. “And you’d be even  _ cuter _ if you got me off.” I took that as my cue to start licking.

To my surprise, she began doing it too to my own feet. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she moaned. “But it’s just too damn  _ good _ !”

“Heck yeah it is! Say, you’re the only one of the girls I haven’t gotten a footjob from yet.”

“Then let’s change that~” I unzipped my shorts and freed my cock. Lilah lowered her legs (try saying  _ that _ three times fast!) and tried to grab it with them.

“Oh, how do I – no, fuck, that’s not right.”

“Hey, take your time. When it’s stopped we’ve got it all.”

She got it right, then began pumping, blushing while simultaneously grinning maniacally. What monster had I just unleasheded on the outside world? “Ohhhh, this  _ is _ a nice change from just boring old handjobs.”

“Hey, Lilah?”

“Yeah?”

“I had a weird dream last night. Sarah was in it.”

“Doing what?” I transferred the memory to her. She smirked, blushing. “Heh, you  _ are _ a perv! But you’re  _ my _ perv~”

“You and the Magnum Harem’s.”

“Magnum Harem? Is that what we are? Sounds cool.” She continued to jerk me off until I finally came. Then, curious, she sniffed her foot, before deciding to lick my cum off it.

“Experimenting now, are we?”

“Yeah, I decided to see if I could suck my own toes after I got my nails done, and I can.” We got more dressed again, staying barefoot a little longer for one last toe-touching before we put our shoes, and in my case my socks first, back on. “We don’t want to keep Xuan waiting, shall we?”

“I guess not.” I restarted time and followed her. She appeared to be deliberately swaying her hips more now.

Even  _ with _ her libido satiated, Lilah is and always would be a huge, enormicus flirt.

And I wouldn’t have her as anything but.

* * *

_ Nya dropped her bag onto its hook and put on a pair of rubber gloves. “Who do I have first?” she asked. _

_ An African-American woman, Nya’s coworker Jordan Francoise, inspected the clipboard on the wall. “Looks like it’s Mr. Halloran for heart problems. Again.” _

_ Nya sighed in exasperation. “I don’t know HOW many times I have to give him that same exact exercise regimen and tell him to stop eating so much fast food before it sinks in! Ugh, dealing with my husband’s trainwreck of a lifestyle is bad enough.” _

_ Jordan nodded. She was among the few doctors at Dickinson hospital who knew the truth about Bond. “Mm. When’s he coming in?” _

_ “Fortunately during the period Ursula’s working here.” Her eyes widened in horrifying realization. “Oh,  _ no _.” _

_ “What?” _

_ Nya sat down in her chair and slumped. “I forgot the thingy that lets you fill a ton of water balloons at the same time. And Bond’s probably broken it trying to unclog the sink with it or something.” _

_ “Then get your intern to get you another, there’s like twenty convenience stores between here and Grant.” _

_ “Yeah, I’ll call her before she leaves for here.” _

* * *

Doug Vision

“So what do we have to do for the newspaper thingy?” I asked Molly. It was lunchtime now, and after eating I’d headed to the room where the Grant Herald was put together.

“They want us to interview the athletes about their dreams,” Molly replied. “Cliche, I know, but we’ve gotta do it. You and Hannah are doing the interviews proper, once you guys are done I’m gonna write them all together.”

“Let’s hope Hannah doesn’t get  _ too _ personal,” I remarked. Hannah was part of the Triad Acolytes. Her last name, Sobsuin, meant “nosy” in Thai, which was more than fitting.

“She knows that this isn’t a time to be  _ that _ nosy, but yeah, try and keep her in check, would ya?”

“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll do my best.” As we left the room, we spotted Ursula, a member of Squad Beta. The Indian girl was wearing a black t-shirt, blue jeans, and purple size 8 Adidas sneakers with white stripes and black socks. Her fingernails were manila.

“Hey Ursula!” Molly chirped. “Off to work?”

“Not exactly,” Ursula replied. “Doug, your mom misplaced her water balloon filler and wants me to pick one up for her.”

“That’s my mother all right,” I said. “She means well, of course, she just...can’t always remember things.”

“I know, you’ve said that before.”

“I have? ...Oh, right, sorry, it’s just–”

“Nah, it’s all good here in Casa Korrapati. I know you don’t always remember stuff either. For a different reason, but still.” Ursula smiled at me. “I gotta go. Catch you guys later!” And she left.

* * *

Ursula Vision

It was a good thing that Route 28, the bus that went to Dickinson Hospital, stopped near a Rite Aid on the way. After getting off, I walked inside. “Okay, let’s see...I think the water balloons would be in the clearance section…”

As I’d hoped, they were. Hidden among the water pistols, oversized pool inflatables, and cheap flip-flops were a couple bags of the requested item. I could see why the doc wanted these specifically; they were obviously  _ much _ faster than that squirt-bottle thingy I’d had as a kid for the same purpose. I could never figure  _ that _ out; I’m pretty much cursed when it comes to machines.

The price was good, too; because it was on clearance, its original price of $6.99 was marked down by half, and now it only cost $3.50. I snatched the one on the front and went to pay for it.

The cashier that day was a young guy who looked to be college age. Caucasian with an ugly little brown manbun, though I didn’t comment on that. “So what’ll it be?” he gruffed.

“Just this,” I said, handing the thing to him. He scanned it and put it in a plastic bag. I paid for it using my Mastercard (it  _ stinks _ that Rite Aid doesn’t take cash).

But when I took my receipt, I noticed something...weird. “Uh, sir? The price tag said this was half off, but this says it’s full price.”

“Sale just ended,” he replied.

“...really?”

“Yep. Just this minute. Better move along, kid.” He glared at me. I swallowed and left.

That was  _ definitely _ not a coincidence. That guy had just marked it up for me because of my skin color. And now I was gonna have to explain that to the doc,  _ and _ to Mom and Dad...

_ Fuck. _

* * *

Doug Vision

I couldn’t stop thinking about my dream.  _ Was _ it an omen, as Cataluka had said?  _ Would _ Sarah be the next person in the Magnum Harem?

I wouldn’t mind it. I mean, she was one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. Extremely trustworthy, too; she was great at keeping secrets. Kept her mouth shut better than Querida, at least. People would  _ kill _ to have someone like her at their side for the rest of time.

And the...contents of the dream, too.  _ Those _ kept me distracted and I was very thankful that my powers were able to catch me up so I didn’t fall behind on assignments.

I tried to take the edge off it with some intimacy. Before I met up with Molly and Ursula, Gwen had met me outside the special ed room after fourth period with an obvious need. While I fucked her, I shared the dream.

“Go for it, dude,” she’d said. “Sarah’s definitely worth the trouble. I mean,  _ I’d _ fuck her.”

“You would’ve done that without lovecharming making you bi.”

“Because I already  _ was _ bi!” she grinned. Then she blushed. “Although...there  _ is _ a girl that I have my eye on...I...I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”

There were several implications there that I decided to ignore for the moment. Another time would be better-suited to dealing with them.

Later that day, after meeting with Molly and Ursula, during my free, I’d sensed that two people needed me. Lilah once more, but this time Gina as well. So I stopped time and gave Gina her first bisexual experience: Lilah ate her out while I fucked her, then they made out.

While Lilah was blowing me, I shared my dream with Gina. “Peculiar,” she huffed. Either it was because I had my fingers in her vagina (heh, Gina’s ’gina) or it was because she was trying to figure it out and wasn’t exactly succeeding at it. Hard to tell.

“Do you think it’s possible that it’s true, though?” I asked.

“I’m not the best at interpreting dreams, but Sarah  _ is _ one of my closest friends. If she is going to be our next inductee, you would be unwise to pass up the opportunity. She may need it.”

“Need it? Why?”

“Sarah’s...I don’t know, but something’s going on with her. Sometime after that event you had with Squad Alpha she’s gotten more distant from us. I don’t know whether or not the full implications of the shooting sank in, or what.”

“You know the person who stopped that guy was  _ me _ , right?”

“Of course I do. Gwen made sure of that. And because you transferred your memories to me, I got it straight from the source himself.” She shuddered as she came.

“Oh, right, I forgot about that.”

“Schpeaking urf schorsch,” Lilah interrupted. One final flick of her amazing tongue and I finished inside her mouth. She released me and stood up, swallowing my sperm with a comically (and deliberately) loud gulp. “Good luck on your interviews an’ stuff. Maybe this’ll tell us what’s going on.”

“Maybe so. Only one way to find out.”

* * *

“I cannot Believe you are Doing This! You should have Told Me!”  _ he _ snarled from the other end of my phone, a shitty Nokia Lumia 635.

“I  _ did _ tell you!” I exclaimed. “And my emails get forwarded to you, so you have it too!”

“Well, I don’t Know, Doug. Make a Plan about what you’re Going To Do about this.”

“Hannah’s in charge of that, I think.”

_ He _ sighed. “Doug, Never let a Woman boss you around. It’s not their place. It never  _ was _ their place.” He hung up.

“Fuck you, too,” I muttered as I stuffed my phone back into my shorts pocket from whence it came.

“Your dad’s being an asshole again?” I heard Hannah ask as she approached me. She was wearing a dark green camo t-shirt, black short shorts, and size 10 Mayari Birkenstocks with white soles and light yellow straps. Her fingernails and toenails were painted a matching dark blue-gray.

“‘Again’?” I scoffed. “That implies he’s stopped at some point.”

“Yeah…”

An awkward silence. I couldn’t fight that damned compulsion any longer. “I like your nails.”

“Hm?” She paused, then it clicked, and she smiled. “Oh, thanks! Emily did them. It’s the kinda thing that girlfriends do, ya know?”

“Not really, I don’t really have one,” I fibbed.

“You’ll find the right girl for you someday, buddy,” she said, patting my shoulder. “I mean, I didn’t find a girl who liked me until last year. Thanks for that, by the way; I mean, no offense to you, of course, but for a kid who’s not supposed to be good at this whole love love guru stuff you’ve been a big help.” Oh, the sheer  _ irony _ of her statement right then and there!

“You’re welcome. What did you do Emily’s in? Because I figured…”

“It’d be a mutual thing? Well,  _ duh _ ! I did hers silver. It turned out pret-ty good,” she clicked her tongue, puffing up with pride. “Speaking of good, what’re you planning to ask Squad Alpha?”

“I don’t know...maybe just ask them about a dream they’ve had recently? It’d make them seem more personable to our audience and take away that stupid aura this school likes to give their athletes. I mean, they’re  _ people _ , not  _ gods _ .”

“Good call. You round them up, I’ll fire away.” She walked off towards the soccer field, me following.

_ So...when we eventually meet up in real life, would you do  _ my _ nails? _ DTL suddenly asked me. She was probably out of school by now, and she’d told me that she wasn’t in any clubs (then again, I don’t think her school even  _ had _ enough people for clubs regardless). So before she started on her homework or whatever it was she did after school, she had a little time to chat with me.

“Of course I would,” I said, quietly enough so that people would think I was just the weird autistic kid mumbling to myself and not in on a universe-saving conspiracy. “Whyever the fuck wouldn’t I do something so intimate with a woman I love?” I thought of something. “What color are they now?”

_ Light purple!  _ If I could’ve seen her eyes at that moment, they would’ve lit up a much brighter shade of orange.  _ I do my fingers and toes matching ‘cuz that’s kinda my thing. They were this metallic dark brown when we met, then I changed it to red-orange, then seafoam green, and now they’re this color. _ She paused before speaking again.  _ It’s so relieving to find someone who shares my special interests. If I get too far into a conversation about a particular topic, people just think that I’m weird. So...thank you, MC, for letting me ramble. _

“The feeling is very mutual. I’m sure that whatever you actually look like, your nails are very beautiful.”

_ Awww, thanks. I’d kiss you, but I’m in a different state. _

“Me too, love. Me too.”

* * *

_ The various doctors of Dickinson Hospital milled about in the big field behind the parking lot. It was time. Nya fidgeted with anticipation. She’d changed out of her work clothes and was instead wearing her swimsuit, a modest black one-piece with white polka dots. She was barefoot, too, and nervously looked down at her size 8.5 feet. _

_ “Doc, you’re gonna be okay,” Ursula said reassuringly. The teenager was wearing a lavender two-piece and had tied her hair up with a black rubber band thingy. “I mean, you removed what, three brain tumors today? This is a cakewalk compared to that.” _

_ “Not really. I mean...what if I screw this up?” _

_ “It’s a water balloon fight, hun,” Jordan chuckled. “The whole POINT is that it’s a mess.” She walked up to the podium and whistled sharply, getting everyone’s attention. _

_ “Okay everybody, here’s how it’s gonna roll!” she barked. “Every balloon that we pop gives one dollar to Hearts in the Right Place, the organization dedicated to battling heart disease. Whether because of genetics, diet, or recreational substances, heart disease is the leading cause of death in the United States. It’s our responsibility as doctors to fight back against this.” _

_ “Yeah!” agreed pediatrician Marek Bogatsch. _

_ “Now who’s ready to get wet?!” She paused and facepalmed at the resulting snickers. “This isn’t an innuendo, shut UP, Gynecology! In fact, just for that, I’m gonna start it.” She picked up a small yellow balloon and lobbed it at the nearest one’s face. _

_ “It is SO on!” the snooty blonde she’d hit declared. And so it began. _

_ “Ursula, you’re with me,” Nya said quickly. _

_ “Got it.” As they weaved through the crowd to get to an unoccupied balloon bucket, Ursula looked down. “Hey, this is the first time I’ve seen your feet.” _

_ “Not the first time I’ve seen yours,” Nya smirked. “I DID deliver you, after all. Nice ped, by the way.” _

_ “Oh, thanks! I think your son would say the same thing if he’d seen them,” Ursula laughed, flexing her dark green-painted toes. “He’s a really sweet boy, y’know?” _

_ “I try,” Nya shrugged. She sighed. “I haven’t had my nails painted since Bond told me not to. I was planning to do them in black but then he told me he didn’t like it. And I was such a fool then, I so wanted to impress him...and look where it took me.” _

_ “Doc, the world’s full of dumb shit. I didn’t get the benefit of a sale because the cashier was racist.” She grimaced. “But hopefully there’s someone who’s fighting against the world being full of dumb shit.” _

_ “Of course there is,” Nya said, something flashing in her eyes knowingly. “There’s gotta be  _ someone _. ...Right?” _

_ “Then we just gotta be hopeful,” Ursula shrugged. “Don’t worry, he’s not going to have you trapped in his stupid little worldview forever. At the rate your husband’s health is falling apart, I don’t think he’s gonna be around for much longer. And then you can do whatever you want with your life. Find a less douchier husband, or wife, I don’t know how you swing. And do your nails if you want, I personally think you’d look great with a black pedicure, but I’m not in charge of your life. The person in charge of your life is you and only you.” _

_ “Thanks for the nail compliment, you would too. You really are one of my best interns.” _

_ “Wait, really?” _

_ “Of course! Technology’s fear of you be damned right up its nonexistent ass. You’re a smart girl and you care enough about the wellbeing of others to do one of the most visceral, squeam-inducing jobs on the planet. Ursula, the world needs more people like you. It truly does. And not only that...but all of the people who are like you need to come together and then you need to  _ work _ together if the world’s going to finally change for the better.” _

_ And Nya, of course, was right. For at that same moment, miles away in a soccer field, her son was working on that very thing. _

* * *

Doug Vision

Gwen sauntered up to me, two soccer balls tucked under her shirt. “Oh,” I said, somehow only mildly surprised by the sight. “What?”

“It’s to parody the objectification of women!” she grinned. “Seriously,  _ no one _ grows boobs that big on their own. Or buttcheeks, for that matter.”

“Buttcheeks?” Hannah asked. We looked behind her and found that Gwen had stuffed soccer balls down her pants, too. Somehow. “Wow…”

“I know, fitting them down my shorts wasn’t very easy,” the blonde grimaced, before quickly perking up. “So! What’re we gonna talk about?”

“Dreams, of course!” Hannah grinned. “Tell me everything and anything about what your dreams were and what you think they mean.”

“Well, my ‘dream’ in the sense of my desires is just to build up the bonds of siblinghood between me and the rest of the world. My  _ dreams _ haven’t been...too interesting, mostly me just falling down an endless escalator. Wonder what it means…”

“A fear of heights?” Hannah guessed.

“Nah, that’s not it…” Gwen lumbered off in contemplation, the soccer balls in her shorts jiggling.

“Now that I see it in real life, it really is a turnoff,” I said finally.

“Agreed,” Hannah grimaced. “Oh! There’s Katie! What does  _ she _ have to say about dreams?” We wandered over to her.

“So...come here often?” Katie was asking Harold, one of the boys of Squad Delta. He was a pudgy sort, with a short mop of brown hair bringing out his tiny ears.

“Not really,” Harold shrugged. “I’m just here to find my water bottle, it fell out of my bag during practice this morning.” Katie frowned, disappointed that her attempt at getting a romantic partner hadn’t worked nearly as well as she’d hoped. Obviously, she was lonely.

“Katie! There you are. We’re interviewing your team about your dreams!  _ Man _ , rhyming is cringy. But! What have  _ you _ been dreaming about?”

“Showing these people who’s boss, that’s what,” Katie grumbled. “We got cheated out of the playoffs by Kenton last year and I want payback. So THIS time, I’m gonna pay extra close attention to them to make sure they don’t do it again.”

“I don’t think I was there for that one,” I said.

“You aren’t there for  _ any _ of them, dude,” Katie shrugged. “I don’t blame you, though, our fans are fucking  _ nuts _ .”

“And they think  _ encouraging _ that behavior is a good thing. Isn’t what happened to Mr. Jordan’s car proof enough that we need to tone it back? Like, down to negative eleven?”

“Hey, people are morons. Not much we can do to change that.” Katie walked off, Hannah scrambling after her to get more questions.

“Well, not much  _ you _ can do to change that,” I muttered to myself. “ _ I’m _ the one who’s gotta go unbind everyone’s brains.”

I wandered around aimlessly for a little bit to see who else I could talk to. Their coach scared me, so not him. Josie and Debbie were already stuck talking to Hannah. By the looks of it, Debbie did  _ not _ look like she was enjoying the experience. It made sense that she wouldn’t, because Debbie was almost as nosy as Hannah was. In my personal experience, like only rarely dissolved like.

Then I saw Sarah, stretching against the bleachers. I walked over.

“So I guess it’s my turn to be interviewed?” she asked.

“If you want it to be.”

She stopped stretching. “Fire away, then.”

“So, uh...have any dreams lately?”

“Yeah. Though I keep forgetting them as soon as I wake up. I hate it. Doesn’t it suck when you forget this really cool dream before you could share it with anyone?”

I blinked. She sounded a lot more angry and bitter than she was normally. Was something bothering her? Was it me? “Well,  _ I _ had a weird dream last night. You were there, as a matter of fact.”

She looked at me, suddenly. intrigued. “Go on.”

“So I was floating in an endless sea of light blue-green, then I got a hat and got orbited by chicken thighs.”

“Huh. When was the last time you ate one of those?”

“Long time ago.  _ He _ doesn’t believe in eating with one’s hands. Anyway, then a razor clam emerged from the ground and you walked out of it. It didn’t open like a clam did, either, it spread out like curtains.”

“Oh,  _ wow _ .” She was smiling now. “So what happened next?”

“Hm…” I pretended to struggle to remember the rest of it. “Then you said ‘The golden chalice rises in the window tonight,’ hopped on a dolphin, and floated away.”

She laughed. “Lol, I  _ would _ ride a dolphin! But that’s funny that you say that, because I had the exact same dream last night.”

My jaw dropped. “...what?”

“I know.  _ Super _ weird. Don’t know what it means. Soulmates, perhaps? Well, probably not…”

She was sad now. “Sarah? You okay?”

“Doug...I keep a lot of secrets for you, don’t I?” she asked.

“Yeah, you do. Like...like my foot fetish, and the fact that I’m doing portraits for you guys.”

“Why me. though?” She sat down on the bleachers and motioned for me to sit next to her. So I did, and I told her why I trusted her.

“Well, because you’ve been nice to me, and I trust you not to tell anyone because if people knew they would use that knowledge to hurt me. And you’re someone who doesn’t like to see people getting hurt.”

“I’m not the only one though, am I?”

“No, because you’re not the only person who’s like that.” An awkward silence as I tried my hardest not to remember how I’d failed in that regard with Danielle.

“Doug, you lovable oaf. You’re really genuine about trusting me, you know that?”

“I hope so.”

Sarah sighed. “I  _ am _ nice, because I like to see the good in people. Their compassion. Their love of their fellow man or woman, or something in between in Gwen’s case.” I guess that answered my question about whether Gwen had come out to her friends as intersex. “You trust me for that reason, so do my friends, so does my family. So did Sean.”

“Why’d you break up with him?” I asked.

“Long-distance relationships don’t tend to last too long, Doug. Not unless its members are really close enough for their love to endure that test. That, and I don’t think he really understood how I really feel.”

“Really feel? About what, exactly?”

“That the world’s out to get us all and there’s nothing we can do about it!” I fell off the bleachers I was so stunned by that revelation. “Shit. You okay?”

“I’ve fallen on sharper,” I muttered.

  
Sarah shook her head and got off the bleachers to lie on the ground with me. “Everyone expects me to be this nice, sweet, and docile girl all the time. I mean, sure, I’m like that  _ most _ of the time anyway, but I shouldn’t  _ always _ be like that!”

“Katie made mention of Kenton cheating you guys out of the playoffs.”

“They did. We have video proof of it. No one would believe us, so we had to keep our mouths shut about it.”

“Explains why today’s the first time I’ve ever heard of it.”

“It’s the same principle as to why no one believes  _ you _ when you say you fought off the gunman.”

“I guess so.”

“In those moments, what I wouldn’t give to be Katie Mirren. Blunt and to the point, angry and loud. I wanted to rage like she did, because I put a lot of fucking work into getting there just to lose it in an instant. We all did. And that’s not what people want in their women, is it?”

“Well,  _ I _ wouldn’t care, as long as it meant I didn’t get my butt sliced open with a hockey stick again.”

Sarah sighed. “And people take advantage of my trust. Like, when I went to Togenan for middle school, there was a girl named Jade Pinkerton. All throughout my time there, I trusted her with my most intimate secrets. Last day of eighth grade, she gets into the PA system and tells them all to everyone. I was so  _ humiliated _ . And she was one of the girls from Kenton who cheated, too.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a lot of stuff going on.”

“Yeah...and everyone expects me to just be...docile and submissive. What do  _ you _ think?”

“I think that people shouldn’t care. Be angry when you’ve been treated unfairly, it’s totally natural to be. And I quote, ‘Don’t let the sunshine spoil your rain; just stand up and complain.’”

“Did you seriously just quote Oscar the Grouch?” she laughed.

“He has a point, you know.”

“He does indeed.” We stood up at last. “Doug...thanks for being there.” Her cheeks flushed, and the edges of her sclerae began to turn green. Sensing what was coming (her, in a moment), I stopped time..

“Sarah, there was more to your dream than what you told me, wasn’t there?”

“Y-yeah...it’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Don’t worry. You can trust me not to tell your secrets. I believe in fair play, after all. You keep mine, I keep yours.”

“Okay then…” She took a deep breath. “The part in your dream where I came out of the clam...I was naked. And then...I had sex with you before I got on the dolphin. I was so confused, but that’s when I realized it. Doug...I’m in love with you. I...I’m kinda scared, actually.”

“I know.”

“Wait, you do?”

Suddenly, I kissed her. She was surprised at first, but melted into it quickly. “Sorry! I didn’t ask!” I stammered.

“No, it’s okay, I...needed that. To know that someone cared.”

“It’s more than just me, actually.”

“Really?”

I transferred my memories into her. “I’m not the only one who knows that the world is messed up. And I know  _ why _ it is, too, because something’s hijacked our narrative for its own purposes. So what I have to do now is to find everyone who knows and wants it to be better. And when we work together, we’re gonna change it.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Sex isn’t the...way I thought it would go down. Pun unintended. But I’ll help you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Of course I will. Knowing that there are people who care about us...it’s relieving like you wouldn’t believe. And hey, Gwen’s part of it, so I  _ know _ it’s gotta work.”

“Gwen stuffed soccer balls into her clothes to augment her assets.”

“I know,” Sarah said, making a face. “I guess you purifying me made me more open to admitting my issues, so...thanks for that, I guess. Uh…”

“You wanna do it, don’t you?” Sarah nodded tentatively. “Why don’t we reenact our dream?”

She perked up immediately. “Yes, let’s.” I quickly stripped us both naked. In doing so, I confirmed that Sarah’s toenails were painted the same exact shade of periwinkle they were in the dream, even sharing the same exact numbers in their RGB coordinates: 197, 196, and 255.

“I can’t believe I got your nail color right,” I remarked.

“Yeah, I noticed. Odd because I just did them Saturday.” She lifted her right foot and wiggled her toes at me, a coy smile and a blush on her face. “You like it, of course, I can see your boner. You’re bigger than Sean is, by the way.”

“I am?”

“Yeah, the average dick size is like, five-and-a-half inches or something. A whole lotta guys out there’ve got teeny peenies.”

“Like  _ him _ .”

She laughed. “Well, seeing that I’ve made you hard, how about I indulge in my little fetish before you indulge in yours?”

“Please do.”

She walked over to me and got on her knees. She stroked my cock lovingly, a glazed, dreamy expression on her face, even sighing a cute little sigh, before finally putting it into her mouth, making the same expression she’d made in my dream. But she felt  _ way _ better than I could’ve ever imagined.

After about five minutes real time, she released me and then started climbing up me. “Uh, Sarah, I’m not nearly as strong in real life.”

“Oh. Right.” She stopped climbing me and then we sat down.

“That doesn’t mean I’m not gonna continue, though.” I leaned forward and we kissed again. Then I gently pushed her onto her back and shifted my gaze to her pussy. “I can’t believe I actually got how you look right,” I remarked.

“Yeah, that  _ was _ weird. Did those aliens have anything to do with it?”

“I can assure you we did  **_NOT_ ** !” a new voice squeaked in my mind. Briefly, three gray eyes suspended over two fuzzy purple patches flashed inside my head.

“That was Ryspiara. She’s a little...easily embarrassed and is extremely aggressive about covering said embarrassment up,” I heard Cataluka explain gently after clicking something to the other Zakochan, who disappeared.

“Guys, I’m about to turn Sarah onto cunnilingus, could you  _ please _ stop being a cockblock? Also, shouldn’t you be frozen?” I asked grumpily.

“You were not completely thorough, Chosen. When stopping time you must FEEL the souls stop; otherwise there will be people still mobile.”

“Uh...I only feel a big buzzing of souls when I do that.”

“Oh,” Cataluka said.  “I see. Hold on, let me check...ah, I see what is wrong now. You will not develop that ability until you have been empowered for one third of your planet’s year. We shall be more careful about interrupting your inductions in future.”

“You’d better,” I grumbled as she fell silent. “Now where was I?”

“About to eat me out?” Sarah guessed.

“Correct. Your prize?” I answered my own question by diving down into her.

She cried out. “Oh,  _ DOUG _ ! This is so great! Why didn’t I have Sean do this to me more?!”

“His loss!” I replied. After about two minutes of that, I stopped licking her pussy and started licking her feet, though not before cleaning them off with a wet paper towel that I conjured.

“Ah...so relaxing,” she cooed. “I could get used to having you suck my toes. Or any of the other girls. I know Gwen would really like doing this.”

“I know Gwen told Katie,” I said between licks, “but I didn’t know she’d told you guys about it. Or her being intersex.”

“She had to, it would’ve made showering in the locker room awkward otherwise. I  _ definitely _ envy her ability to autofellate, though.”

“I figured.” I stopped licking. “So I guess now it’s time to fuck...but how?”

“I have a new position you could try,” she offered.

“And what might that be?” I asked.

“Lotus. It’s how I lost my virginity to Sean and it’s one of my personal favorites. I’ll get on your cock, then I’ll drape my legs over your shoulders. We’ll both be sitting up for this one.”

“Fine by me.”

As we went through with it though, I realized that this was the exact position that we’d used in our dream. Somehow, I was precognizant of how my fifth induction was going to go down to the wire.

Speaking of wires, my own felt like they were crossed, because I was on fire. Not literally, mind you, you in the back, put the damn fire extinguisher  _ down _ , thank you very much. But after ten realworld minutes, I was about ready to release.

“Sarah?” I panted. “I can’t hold out for much longer.”

“Me either,” she agreed. “C’mon sweetie, it’s okay to finish now.”

So I did.

“This isn’t going into the newspaper, is it?” Sarah asked me as we redressed.

“Of course not. I can only talk about it when only the people who know the truth are about.”

“And presumably, they’re the minority of your readership.”

“Exactly.”

Five down, fifty-eight to go.

* * *

Eventually, the interviews were over. “Oh boy, Bernard’s gonna be  _ stoked _ to see how much stuff we’ve got!” Hannah grinned. “See ya!” And with that, she hopped onto an oncoming Cheswold’s Chasers Route 28 and disappeared.

“Wow, she  _ can _ teleport,” Harold remarked.

“Oh my god, can you find your damn water bottle already?!” Katie snapped.

This prompted a new conversation and they began to walk away. Heh. Some things never change.

“Doug?” Sarah walked up to me. “Thanks. And I hope your portraits are ready for me to see.”

“They are. Trust me, you’re gonna  _ love _ them.”

“Of course I will. Because I love  _ you _ .” She shook my hand and departed to join her friends.

I wish  _ I _ had friends like her.

Although...maybe I kind of do.

I was shaken out of my thoughts when I heard a parking noise. Mom’s car had pulled up; it was time for me to go home. I got in the front seat and put my backpack by my feet. “Hey kiddo,” Mom said. She was wet and had balloon fragments in her hair. After I buckled up, she started the car, and we were off.

“So I take it that the water balloon fight went well?” I asked.

“Yeah, we raised so much money,” she said.

“How much?”

“ _ All of it _ .”

I wasn’t aware Mom read Homestuck.

Then I realized that we were in a car. “Mom, the light!”

Mom snapped to attention and stopped the car suddenly. “ACK!”

We panted, breathing, lucky to be alive. “Shit,” I said finally. We waited there breathlessly until the light turned green again and we went off.

“So what did  _ you _ do?” she asked.

“Interviewed people on the girl’s soccer team about their dreams. Apparently Sarah had the same exact dream as me last night. Who would’ve guessed?”

“Not me, that’s for sure.”

“I’m gonna write up what she and the other players said as soon as I get home. It was a slow homework day today, so I need  _ something _ to do with my time.”

Time I was prolly gonna waste anyway.

It was then that I noticed her downtrodden expression. Not the first time I’ve seen it, but still, I had to ask why it was there. Unlike the majority of adults, my mother was someone I actually  _ liked _ more than half the time. “What’s wrong?”

“You know how I said I hoped I wasn’t forgetting something?”

“Yeah?”

“I  _ did _ forget something. I left the water balloon filler thingy at home.”

“Oh.”

“Your father’s probably destroyed it. And Ursula had to go get a new one for me and got hassled by a racist cashier. If only I wasn’t so forgetful then we wouldn’t even be in this mess. God, I’m such a  _ moron _ .” She sighed and faceplanted into the steering wheel at the next red light.

I gently touched her shoulder sympatheticamentally.

She sat up, letting me remove my hand before she crushed it, when the light turned green. “But sometimes good things come of our mistakes. Ursula told me something that I haven’t heard in an extremely long time. That I  _ matter _ , that I’m  _ loved _ , that someday I’ll be  _ free _ to be myself...I just have to keep being hopeful.

“But...it’s not all bad.”

“Really?”

She looked at me and smiled a sad smile. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, really stupid things that I wish I could take back. But of all the good things to come out of them...you’re probably the best.”

Okay, I was  _ not _ expecting that. “Th-thanks, Mom.”

“Anytime, kiddo. Anytime.”

* * *

We got home. “About  _ Time _ ,”  _ he _ said, strained.

“Time for what?” Mom asked. We walked into the dining room and found  _ him _ , sprawled on his back.

“For dinner. I hhhhhaven’t Eaten in a Very Long Time.”

  
“Why not?”

I noticed a bunch of plastic tubes with rough ends close to his right foot. “Mom? I think we figured out what happened to your water balloon filler.”

“And you didn’t  _ try _ to get up after you fell down?” Mom asked  _ him _ in disbelief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course he didn’t. Bond’s an idiot.
> 
> Another member inducted, and we see more of Doug’s world. Nya is unfortunate like her son, Bond is an ass, and Doug’s better at the whole social thing than he believes himself to be. Now what? Stay tuned to find out…
> 
> And please give me your lovely reviews! I’ll respond like so:
> 
> Person: Does Doug even need a harem?
> 
> Yes.


	7. Vice, Vice Baby

June 14, 2019 AD.

Kikehuwet, Delaware. 

Doug Vision 

I saw Kyla approach me that day, the last day of tenth grade. “Blue today?” I asked her on noticing what she was wearing. She was wearing a completely sky blue outfit – hair bow, t-shirt, skirt, nail polish, and her Florida Birkenstocks.

“Yep! I like green more, but this is a good color on me,” she grinned. “Speaking of color, do you think you could draw a picture of me?”

Wait, _what_? “W-why?” I stammered.

“Because she likes your artwork, silly!” That was Gwen. She was in all-yellow that day: scrunchie, halter top that showed off her arms, shorts that showed off her legs, nail polish and Gizeh Birkenstocks that showed off her feet. “Kyla wanted to know if you could draw anything that isn’t a chibi. Don’t get me wrong, the chibis _are_ cute, but like, they’re not _beautiful_. And I think she deserves a beautiful drawing, no?”

“Oh.” It made sense, really. The chibi style was for the sake of convenience and speed, but if need be I could draw up something much more detailed and much more realistic. I shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

“Yay!” Kyla grinned, clapping her hands and bouncing on her heels enthusiastically. “Thank you so much! I hope it’s not too much for you.”

“No, not at all. I _might_ need your measurements though, I’m planning for it to be 1:12 scale.”

“I’m 5’6”, wear a size 8 shoe, and my cup size is 30D.”

“Kyla, I don’t think he _needs_ to know how big your boobs are,” Katie snarked, rolling her eyes as she walked over. She was wearing all-dark red that day: headband, tank top, athletic shorts, nail polish, and Milano Birkenstocks. “Guys only have five different ranges of breast sizes: flat, small, medium, large, and HOLY FUCKING SHIT THAT CAN’T BE NATURAL!”

“...well _someone_ has booby envy,” Gwen said finally. Katie was noticeably smaller than the other two females in conversation with me.

“I do _not_!”

“Hey, wait a minute,” I said, realizing something. “Kyla’s in blue, Gwen’s yellow, and Katie’s red. And you’re all wearing Birkenstocks.”

“Not anymore!” Gwen smirked, sliding out of her shoes and flexing her toes. It was at that point that reality decided to ensue. “YEOWCH!” She quickly slid them back on, grimacing in pain. “Note to self: _don’t_ barefoot when it’s ninety-six outside and the ground is made of concrete.”

“Disregarding _that_ particular moment, yeah, we are,” Katie said. “So maybe _we_ should get drawn, too.”

“What’s this about getting drawn?” Sarah asked, approaching us. She was wearing all-dark purple: solid-colored hair tie, a blouse striped with lavender as well, the base color for her silver-spotted palazzo pants, and solid again for her nail polish and the straps of her Kairo Birkenstocks.

“I asked Doug if he wanted to draw me, then Gwen told him why, and now I just realized that you’re wearing Birkies too. So you should get drawn too! If...you don’t mind it, that is,” Kyla added hastily.

“Sure, why not? Hey, Josie, you should get in on this too!”

Josie timidly walked over. She was in all-malachite green: polo t-shirt, tights, nail polish, and Arizona Birkenstocks. Well, except for her bracelets, which were a more tangy green color. That day had been one of those rare days when she wore her hair down; I wish she did more often, she looked absolutely adorable that way. “Uh, yeah, I just...don’t want to be a burden.”

“No no, it’s completely fine by me! I’m happy to make you happy,” I admonished, trying to not sound upset because yesterday I’d more or less lost a friend to my own stupid. “I’ll do it. Make it a little booklet, even.”

“BirkenSquad!” Katie realized. “Dude, you _have_ to call it that!”

“I will, thanks for your suggestion for the title.” Katie beamed proudly. “Now imma need your heights and your shoe sizes so I can proportionarate your portraits correcticallamente.”

“5’5” and 8.5,” Sarah said.

“5’7” and 9,” Katie added.

“5’10” and 11,” Gwen beamed.

“5’3” and 7,” Josie mumbled last, clearly embarrassed about being the smallest one there.

“Alright, that should be good enough for me. I think I should include a funny thing from your lives to add that little personal touch to complete the strangest portraits evah!”

“Great idea!” Kyla beamed.

“Wait, what if you forget what we look like?” Gwen asked frantically. “Shit, we gotta take a picture of us so you’ll know!”

“Doubtful that you’ll need it. My memory is _really_ good.”

“Can you remember _exactly_ how many stripes are on my shirt off the top of your head?” Sarah asked in disbelief.

“...fair point.” Kyla handed me her phone and they stood in chromatic order, Katie on the far left and Sarah on the far right. I took the picture that got the best lighting and focus, then handed it back. “I’ll send it to you later,” she said.

“Let’s hope _someone_ doesn’t find it,” I grimaced.

“Yes, let’s.”

* * *

September 11, same year, same city, same POV. 

I ended up recreating the picture Kyla sent me. It was good pose practice and it saved me the trouble of thinking up new poses on my own. Each girl got their own drawings scanned in secret and given a description. Then I assembled the portraits themselves into a recreation of the original photo for the front page, and finished with a back page to describe myself. With it done and printed, I showed it to a certain someone who’d be the first person besides myself to see it. Hey, I needed _some_ constructive criticism, and parents and sexy alien monster overlords wouldn’t cut it.

_Wow, that’s amazing!_ DTL exclaimed. _You’re_ really _good at this, sweetie!_ She was using her powers to see what I saw. To her, my hands were solid black, so the Dewiantow didn’t have to worry about her figuring out my actual appearance. However, it didn’t matter if she knew what anyone _else_ looked like, since the Malevolence already knew who was destined to be a part of my harem, so DTL was free to see them too. Speaking of which. _So_ that’s _what Gwen and Sarah look like! I mean, I kinda knew what Sarah looked like from your dream, but_ here _it’s so much more detailed._ Man _, what I wouldn’t give to kiss those gorgeous lips, suck those..._ scrumptious _-looking toes…_ She audibly shuddered. I swore I heard her drool, too.

“They are indeed quite nice to suck on,” I admitted. Sarah’s feet, I’d noticed, had a bit of an odd floral taste to them. I’d have to ask if she used lotion, and if so, what brand.

_And the other three girls you drew are also pretty cute. MC, if_ you’re _not inducting them, I’m gonna come all the way down there from Maine to do it_ myself _._

I laughed. “If you must.”

_Hey, can you flip to Josie’s page?_

“Sure,” I said, doing so.

I could feel her squinting those beautiful eyes of hers. _So Josie got a pillow stuck to her face? How the_ nonexistent **hell** _does that even_ **happen**?!

“I heard someone mention it briefly in tenth grade. I don’t know how it happened either, but it’d be _really_ damn funny if it was true,” I replied.

_Isn’t Josie the shy and timid one, kinda like me, though? Are you sure she won’t freak out when she reads that?_ she asked, concerned.

“No. I’m not sure at all. Squad Alpha’s dynamic is built off a complicated series of in-jokes. I don’t know all of what they take in stride and what they don’t.”

_To be honest, I don’t think I would be able to tell either,_ she mentally shrugged. _Finally_ , someone who actually _understood_ how autism worked. _Oh, shit, I’ve gotta eat. Mom’s calling me._

“DOUG, THE FOOD’S GONNA FLY TO MARS NOW!”

“And so’s mine,” I grumbled, hiding the stapled booklet in a paper folder and hiding that between my binders within my backpack. “Talk to you later, babe.”

_You too!_

* * *

“A moment of silence, please,” Principal Marta Finster said over the loudspeaker during advisory, suddenly cutting everyone’s socialization short. “Today marks eighteen years since 9/11. I know, none of you were there to see it. So you will not think that this matters. But it does. Oh, it _does_.” And thus the uncomfortable, stifling silence began.

_Yeah, it matters. It started Islamophobia like the US has never seen, and now people like Nadira can’t get by in life without someone looking at them funny,_ I thought to myself bitterly.

“Indeed it has.”

_Oh. Hey Cataluka. Did the Malevolence cause this?_

“Somewhat. It made Islam intolerant of other religions, made it the second-most popular human faith, drove people to seek out its most restrictive and oppressive forms, and controlled the minds of those who could’ve prevented the attack to look the other way. It swept people on both sides into crazed furor, and protected those who lied about the true magnitude of the danger posed. But other elements occurred _without_ Paskuda’s influence.

“Good and bad people exist regardless of corruption. As I have said many times before, all the Malevolence does is beg you to take the path of selfishness and fear, a path that leads you deeper into its domain. Accept it, and it will take control of some parts of your mind while letting others remain intact. Reject it, and it will take complete control of ALL of your mind and force you to do its bidding.

“Of course, for many afflictees, it would not benefit the Malevolence for them to be so obviously...maligned. Every time someone you think is your friend and usually is suddenly turns on you that is Paskuda at work, taking control of their mind to make both of you suffer for its own personal amusement.” She seemed really angry now.

_Cataluka?_

“Yes?” she asked, startled.

_Did you guys have terrorists?_

She sighed wearily. “They’re the reason why we’re the only Zakochani left. After the Przodkowie went extinct my great-grandfather, Arschlong Emilitio, declared that our job as a species was to reject what we were created for and find a better purpose. But some couldn’t even _acknowledge_ that we were created for sexual slavery. Our creators and enslavers imprinted a heavy culture of shame on us to keep us in line. That shame became delusion, and those broken individuals became the Out-of-Sighters.”

_Out of sight, out of mind,_ I mentally gulped.

“Exactly. The Out-of-Sighters did not wish to hear of our ancestors, not even of the heroes who wanted our freedom. They wanted all information about them to be lost forever,” she spat, her teeth audibly clicking against each other. “They grew in size over the years, with entire countries coming to sympathize with them, and they grew evermore _violent_. Eventually, in our year 2471, they declared war on those who taught about our ancestors, a war that would reduce our civilization to prehistoric times if they succeeded. A Final War, we Knowers came to call it, for an Out-of-Sighters victory would be the very last event in recorded history.”

_That sounds...bad._

“It was. Our stunted imaginations couldn’t figure out how to solve our conflicts diplomatically, and the war eventually went nuclear. After my experiment to find the universe’s structure failed, a nuclear bomb was dropped right on our lab.” I could feel her eyes staring at me, boring into my soul and building up an even more scarboding reveal. “It was like no bomb humans have ever created or will _ever_ create, Wiebraniec. That fission bomb contained the heaviest possible atom of all, the 512-nucleon isotope of Element 172, the very atom I sent flying at its antiparticle to finally tear a hole in spacetime, the very thing that empowered the Dewiantow.” Now I _knew_ how powerful that bomb had to have been if _one_ atom of the stuff turned a bunch of ordinary people into physical goddesses. “The bomb eradicated ALL life on Schronisko, not just the Knowers but the Out-of-Sighters too, and not just the Zakochani but the megamyriads of innocent species who weren’t allowed a say in our continued existence. A perversion of the very element I used to try and figure out a better way of finding out who we really are. All of our planet’s natural beauty, which took 4.3 billion Earth years and 5.93 billion _Shroniskoan_ years to evolve, gone in a matter of mere **_seconds_ ** because a few people couldn’t accept that the past can’t be changed. Even a reality warper at their fullest possible strength has their limits, and changing the flow of time is the biggest limit of them all.”

_Well...since the Przodkowie are extinct and the Malevolence kept you guys from coming back, shouldn’t Schronisko still HAVE life?_ I asked.

“It does,” Cataluka confirmed. I felt her smile. “Paskuda is very short-sighted, after all. If it simply let history repeat itself, Schronisko would be dead before its time comes without any interference needed what. So. _Ever_. But since it was more invested in preventing us from giving our paradox clones their OWN set of powers...well, all it’s done is simply hasten its own death sentence.” She fell silent just as the PA system clicked off, returning back to whatever other obligations she had at the moment. Looking down at my backpack, I hoped that I didn’t prove to be as short-sighted either and that I hadn’t chosen an incident that would offend somebody. How wrong I was.

* * *

“Hey Doug,” Eva said cheerfully as I entered Room 328.

“Hey,” I replied, taking my seat, which, conveniently, was right next to her. “What did you think of the homework?”

Eva thought about this. “I mean, it’s good that we’re getting more European history but like, what about the _rest_ of the world? Because I keep ”

“Syllabus said that’ll be covered next semester to the tune of ‘Where are the lands Spain, France, Germany, Belgium, England, and Sweden used to own now?’”

_“...Sweden?”_

“Philadelphia used to be Swedish,” I explained.

“Huh. Cool. Anyway, for the first question I said that a major reason Rome fell was because Christianity’s introduction janked up the social order, right?” Eva’s family were Kemetic; that is, they practiced a modernized revival of the ancient religion Egypt was famous for. Bashing the Abrahamic faiths that led their native one to ruin was common. Particularly for Eva, who was a tad more secular than her sisters were.

“Partially, yes. They also got so used to having slaves do everything for them that they forgot how to do things themselves.”

“Truly the maid is a sign of capitalistic laziness. As is a lotta kids of different ages.”

“Yourself excluded?”

“I’m a quadruplet, Doug,” Eva smirked. “I couldn’t _be_ helped.”

“Apparently, me either,” I replied. “My mom said my birth kinda...surprised her. Don’t know why.”

“Considering how old your dad is, I think she kept expecting to miscarry and just never did,” Eva shrugged.

“Well, I _am_ premature by a month, so you’re _half_ -right. Speaking of half-right, what about Fergus the Great?” I rifled through my backpack to get out my laptop. Eva’s was already out, albeit unopened.

“Jury’s still out on whether or not he was a real person and not an invention of folklore.” She squinted below me. “You’ve got your art folder in there. What’s in it?”

“Uh…” _You can trust Eva, she doesn’t judge. ...Much._ “It’s a little booklet for Squad Alpha.”

“Oh! Kinda like the ones you made for our birthdays last year and the year before,” Eva nodded. “Say, what are you gonna do for this year’s?”

“I dunno...I did the seasons for the first one, and the humors for the second...maybe flowers?”

“Flowers it is!” She smiled at me. “Prickly pear for me. Kinda goes with the whole summer and heat theme I’ve got goin’ on. Speaking of goin’ on, where’s Ms. Theresa?”

“Sorry I’m late!” Ms. Theresa, a weathered old white woman, said, dashing into the room. “One of the aides decided _right now_ was a good time to talk to me.”

“Was it the one with the short gray hair and the shrew-looking face?” a thin, spry Mohawk Iroquois boy, Kanatase Flatfoot, asked.

“Yeah.” Ms. Theresa began getting her stuff out when a yellow flash rippled through the room, freezing her in place. I sighed and got up.

* * *

“Hi sweetie,” Gwen said sheepishly when I rounded the corner to see her standing outside Room 306, meaning she’d gotten horny during English. “Sorry if I interrupted something important…”

“Not really,” I shrugged. “Class was late because our teacher got held up by an aide.”

“Was it Buck, the one with the shrew-looking face?”

“How’d you know?”

“I’ve...run into him a few times before.” She growled. “I _hate_ him! He’s always sticking his nose into things he’s not involved in! And he always freaks the hell out about little things.”

“Like what?”

“So last Halloween I snuck up behind Eric and scared him, as you do, and we were all laughing about it, himself included. Then all of a sudden Buck walks up to me and tells me that what I’m doing is wrong because ‘People aren’t meant to be scared.’” She did scare quotes with her fingers when she said that last part.

“Even though it was Halloween, one of two times of the year when you’re _allowed_ to do stuff like that?” I asked incredulously.

“He has no spirit except for school spirit. And our school spirit is excessive and also dumb. Do we _really_ need to celebrate our terrible football team?”

“If we were in England, I’d tell you not to sell yourselves short. But we’re in America, so I don’t have to.”

“Aw, you really think we’re good?”

“You know how to play soccer and I don’t, so that’s more power to you than me, I guess.”

“Let’s not talk about that stuff anymore, it’s killing my libido,” Gwen grunted. She pulled off her white t-shirt, ditched her jean-shorts, white sneakers, and purple-and-lilac-striped socks.

“Agreed.” I stripped myself using my powers, cleaned Gwen’s privates using my powers, then lay on the ground underneath her and pulled her vagina onto my mouth.

“Oh!” Gwen shuddered. “I _love_ it when you eat me out. And this is only your second time doing that to me, too, so who _knows_ how much better you’ll get?!”

“Some alien, no doubt,” I replied. Gwen giggled from above me and bent over to suck my cock. We lasted about six minutes realtime before I came into her mouth, and she came into mine through her vagina and onto my chest with her own penis. I cleaned us up and redressed us when it was all over.

“So how’d your drawings turn out?” she asked.

“You’ll get to see them during lunch, don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.”

“‘Little’?”

“Okay, don’t worry your _medium-sized_ head about it.”

“Better.”

“But it turned out really good. DTL loved it, I think she even plans to masturbate to it. She thinks you’re a _very_ attractive girl, and I agree.”

Gwen blushed. “Wow...thank you. And her, too.” She returned to normal. “I’ll take it! Approval from one of our other girlfriends is good enough for me! For now. You’d still better show it to me!”

“I will. See you later.”

As I walked back to class, I was struck by a sudden bit of inspiration. Perhaps, if I someday did a male counterpart to BirkenSquad, then Gwen scaring Eric would be included in _his_ portrait.

* * *

A while later, it was finally time. I finished my lunch, threw out all my trash, got my art folder, and set off for the courtyard. I found the five girls of Squad Alpha that I’d drawn at a table, the remainder not there yet apparently.

“Hey Doug!” Kyla chirped. She was wearing a dull pink t-shirt that read “STEM Girl”, an orange-red hairbow, white shorts, and dark brown Rainbow flip-flops. Her fingernails were white, her toenails light gray. “Is it time?”

“Oh, it is _time!_ Time to admirate the absolute quality of this artwork!” I declared.

“Alright, let’s see it!”

I set the folder down and pulled it out. “Dude…” Katie said in awe. She was wearing a black t-shirt with thin brick red and yellow stripes that looked like molten rock, navy blue athletic shorts with white trim, waistband, and a single vertical stripe on the outer side of each leg, and gray high-cut Converse with white socks. Her fingernails were painted this time, a lovely coral color. “That’s so _good_.”

“I know, right?” Kyla agreed. “I do _not_ regret asking for this.”

I smiled as the five girls admired the cover. Sarah was wearing a solid light gray t-shirt with a cream collar, dark purple-gray cargo shorts, and yellow-green sneakers with blue markings on the heel with no socks. Josie was wearing a black v-neck t-shirt, a grass green layered skirt, and the very same malachite green Arizona Birkenstocks that she’d worn the day I’d been asked to do the drawing. Her fingernails were a dull mauve, her toenails metallic silver.

Out of the five of them, Josie’s reaction was the one I most dreaded. DTL’s words echoed through my mind; _had_ I chosen the best incident to make a joke about?

“And here’s what I’ve said about each and every one of–” My eyes bulged as I felt an uncomfortable churning in my bladder. “Sorry, I gotta go to the bathroom!” And off I went, leaving the booklet on the table.

* * *

Kyla Vision 

“He’s gonna miss out on our reactions,” Gwen noted.

“Ah, who cares? We can just tell him what we think when he’s back,” Katie replied nonchalantly.

“It won’t be the same, though,” I admitted. “The first time you see something is special. Still, it’s better to get on with it now.” So I opened it to the first page, which was my own:

KYLA: THE CHICK

  * Exceptionally fashionable



  * Younger than the rest, i.e. the precocious kid of the bunch



  * Secretly a hugebig fan of Lady Gaga



I snickered at the memory. My bus came to school early one day in ninth grade, leaving me alone in the (somehow unlocked) advisory room. I got bored, so I looked up the lyrics to Poker Face and started singing, and I got so into it that I didn’t notice my advisory come in until I finished and they applauded me. I was moritified at the time, but it was a thing of pride now; Nedveds _could_ carry a tune after all! (My family had a reputation for being tonedeaf; even Maddie Issawri could sing better than us.)

“Alright, we’re off to a good start,” Katie nodded.

“Looks like it,” Josie agreed. She turned the page and grinned. “Ohp! Gwen, you should take a look at this!”

“Lemme see!” We scooted over so Gwen could see her portrait:

GWEN: THE LEADER

  * Do what she says or else she’ll confuse you



  * Hybrid of Amazon and Viking Warrior



  * Has _way_ too many styrofoam balls for one person



“Have you used them all up yet?” I asked.

“Nope!” Gwen, who was doubled over laughing, managed to get out.

I remembered that now. Gwen got those for an art project in eighth grade, but the project had been canceled when Togenan’s art teacher was caught at Tina’s, a tavern well-known for having a lot of underage patrons and not doing a damn thing about it, and subsequently fired. Needless to say, Gwen kept them, although they _did_ come in handy during a science project in _ninth_ grade that culminated in Doug giving her a mani-pedi (long story short, Gwen was gonna do it herself but cramped up).

I turned the page. “Katie, I think you’re gonna like this one!”:

KATIE: THE LANCER

  * Ignores authority if authority is being a dumbhead



  * Which is most of the time, basically



  * Can defruit a peach tree in under ten seconds



Katie was on the floor by now. “I...think we...broke her,” I said nervously.

“She’ll be fine,” Sarah shrugged. Katie’s incident referenced the time she kicked a soccer ball into her neighbor’s yard, striking his prized peach tree and causing it to drop all of its bounty in one fell swoop. “What did he say about me?”

SARAH: THE MORALITY PET

  * Really good at keeping the others from being dumb



  * Doesn’t like being betrayed though



  * Two words: wet towel



Sarah giggled. “Not my proudest moment, was it?” Last year, Sarah had slipped on a wet towel in the showers after practice one day, and ended up knocking down the entire team.

“Nope, but it _was_ funny!” I paused. “Sorry was that rude?”

“Not a chance! Josie, looks like it’s your turn.”

Josie flipped the page and paled. “Oh…”

“Why? What’s wrong?” She wordlessly showed us the page, and we all stopped laughing:

JOSIE: THE QUIET ONE

  * Doesn’t like making people angry



  * Has a lot of good ideas worth hearing



  * Got stuck to a pillow once



“Why...if he liked me, why would he mention that?” Josie sniffled.

Katie hmphed. “This is _Doug_ we’re talking about here. I don’t think he knows the whole story. If he did, he would’ve”

“That’s probably it,” I agreed, sighing. “Maybe we should’ve told him what stories to include…”

“Wouldn’t that ruin the surprise, though?” Gwen asked.

“Gwen, if it hurts someone’s feelings, it’s a surprise worth ruining,” Sarah replied. “So how should we broach this?”

“I...dunno. I don’t want to make him upset…” Josie whimpered. “Maybe Kyla should do it. She’s the one who asked for it, after all.”

I sighed; Josie needed to learn how to get over her anxiety by herself one day. “Yeah, I can do that.” I closed the packet and stared at it. “Such a shame, it was fun until then…” Suddenly, a rough hand grabbed it from me. “Hey!”

It was Buck. He flipped through it and growled. “This is outrageous!” He looked at the back, where Doug had foolishly signed his name. He marched off right when Doug was coming back.

“Hey guys–” He stopped. “...where’d it go?”

“You’re...not going to like it,” I winced.

* * *

_Buck marched into the office of one Dr. Thomas Rockefeller, PhD. Rockefeller was a man of 71 with thin white hair and saggy jowls, formal black eyes, and a near-permanent scowl. “Some jackass made this thing!” Buck snapped, dropping the packet roughly on Rockefeller’s desk._

_“So what?” the vice principal asked, looking over its front page. “Someone drew pictures of their friends. Kids do that all the time. Now give me a legitimate reason to waste another student’s time before I send you out of my office.”_

_“One of them got upset by this thing. It’s_ probably _because the kid drew them with painted toenails!”_

_“Girls wear nail polish, Buck,” Rockefeller sighed. “And since this cover page looks like it’s probably a replica of a photograph, it’s most likely completely innocent.” He opened the page and inspected the descriptions next to each portrait. “The_ words _might be what really set one of them off. That said, it’s probably just a simple misunderstanding; if you bring the kids in we can clear this up pretty quickly and go on with the rest of our lives.”_

_“Kids? It’s only the boy’s fault!” Buck protested._

_“Maybe the girls commissioned it. We won’t know for sure unless we get their story too.” Buck ignored him and left to get Doug, and Doug alone._

**_Well now,_ ** _boomed a familiar voice._ **_Looks like_ ** **somebody** **_needs to be punished, doesn’t he?_ **

_“Oh, come off it,” Rockefeller sighed. “It’s not worth it.”_

_The Malevolence chuckled darkly._ **_Oh, that’s where you’re_ ** **wrong** **_, my good man. Douglas Magnum has done something_ ** **unspeakably** **_bad that has hurt the feelings of another of your students. This might count as sexual harassment, you know. Can’t play favorites here._ **

_“Even if it is, and I doubt it, it’s probably unintentional. And I see nothing sexual about this thing; it’s purely platonic.” Rockefeller was 60% right._

**_Can’t be convinced, then?_ ** _The Malevolence paused, but only briefly._ **_Ho-hum. Looks like I shall have to take action to make sure you uphold justice in this fine institution._ **

_Rockefeller groaned as his mind sparked in pain before his consciousness was roughly shoved to the side and his eyes gained a dark aura. He was the Malevolence’s puppet now._

**_Time to make that_ ** **wretch** **_suffer some_ ** **more** **_._ **

* * *

Doug Vision 

“It’s gone?” I asked, worried.

“Buck saw it, and he...didn’t exactly like it,” Gwen gulped. “So he...kinda took it away?”

My brow furrowed. “That thing wasn’t meant to be seen by a teacher! Especially not _him_!”

“Well, what do you suppose we can do, huh?” Katie griped.

The aide in question suddenly appeared and grabbed me. “You’re coming with me!” he growled, dragging me away.

“Wha– hey, you can’t do that!” Katie protested. “At least let _us_ come along too, we’re ALSO involved!” Buck ignored him and kept dragging me, all too similarly to _him_.

This was bad. If _he_ found out, I’d be dead.

Literally.

* * *

Buck forced me into Dr. Rockefeller’s office, shoved me into a chair, gave me an evil smile, and then left. “So,” Dr. Rockefeller grimaced. “Your drawings.”

I gulped in fear, unable to come up with anything. “Not gonna talk, are we? I have just the thing to fix that.” He typed in a phone number.

I paled when, almost immediately, a growly voice snapped “Hello, This is Bond Magnum, How May I Help you?”

“Hello Mr. Magnum, this is Dr. Rockefeller. Your son drew pictures of some girls and one of them got upset.”

“Well,” _he_ sighed, “ _I_ certainly didn’t know about any Drawings. He would’ve Shown me if he Had.” Because he criticized me every time I made them, that’s why. “Doug, _why_ did you do That?”

“Uh...they noticed they were all wearing variations of a theme one day and wanted me to preserve the moment,” I replied nervously. Momentarily, Dr. Rockefeller seemed satisfied by this explanation, but he blinked and then he wasn’t anymore. “Who got upset?”

“Wasn’t told. Which one _do_ you think is the most likely to freak out?”

“Must’ve been Josie,” I sighed. “They asked me to include something funny that happened to them. I wasn’t sure whether or not her getting a pillow stuck to her face was funny to her.”

A pause. “...That can’t Happen,” _he_ said finally.

“Well, it did. Somehow. I never got the full story.”

Again, Dr. Rockefeller seemed okay with this until he wasn’t. “Well, _I_ don’t think it’s that. You drew them with painted toenails, and that’s probably what really set them off.”

“I was _specifically_ asked to replicate their _exact_ outfits, and it happened to be ninety-six degrees outside in June. So do the math.”

“Dr. Rockefeller, if I may,” _he_ interjected. “Doug, that is a Creepy and Icky Thing to Do. I mean, girls Shouldn’t Even Be _wearing_ that stuff, it’s Gross. But then you drew their Feet...I need to punish you.”

“I can do that, Mr. Magnum. How about a new advisory? One of those girls he drew is in it and I think she’s also creeped out.” Kyla was the one who _asked_ for it in the first place! I was really freaking out now; _he_ wanted to destroy my life!

“A week of detention,” _he_ countered.

“A month.”

“A year!” _he_ laughed.

“Completely change his courses!” Dr. Rockefeller added.

“Or, y’know, we could just kill him.” I _knew it_ . _He_ was going to ruin my life in the worst way possible, and I could _not_ let that happen. With a wave of my hand, I stopped time.

And then I ran.

* * *

I slumped in a corner and cried. It was all my fault. I failed everybody again because I’m bad and stupid.

_Sweetie? Oh, MC!_ I briefly lifted my head at DTL’s frightened voice. _What happened? Are you okay?_

“You were right,” I choked. “They hated it. And now _he_ wants to kill me.”

_Are you sure he’s not exaggerating?_

“He isn’t,” Ratchentka replied. “The Unchosen’s greatest wish is to see your lover perish, and this would be an _excellent_ opportunity for him to finish him off.” DTL whimpered on hearing this.

“Which is why I can’t restart time _ever_ ,” I finished. “That way no one can hurt me.”

_Yeah, but...your friends. You’ll never get to see them again. And then you’ll never get to find out how much they love you._

“Josie hates me,” I snapped. “I know _that_ much.”

“What? Oh, Doug, I don’t hate you.” I looked up and saw Josie approach me.

“You sure? Dr. Rockefeller said you were upset because I drew you with a pedicure,” I mumbled.

Josie groaned. “Doug, that wasn’t why I was upset by the Birkensquad album at all!” She sighed, then sat down next to me. I wasn’t quite ready to look at her yet, so she didn’t try to press it. “ _Yes_ , you’ve made me uncomfortable by staring at my feet before, but you didn’t know better for the obvious reason and now you do now that I’ve established where my boundaries are. And I _know_ that you’d never _try_ to hurt me, because you like me and you make it obvious that you don’t want to see me feeling bad.”

“Was it the description, then?” I asked, turning slightly just so I could look her in the eyes.

“It was. How much do you know about the time I got a pillow stuck to my face?”

“I know that it happened, and that’s it. There’s more to it, isn’t there?”

Josie gulped, reluctant to admit exactly what it was that was bothering her, instead drawing her bangs over her eyes. I decided to purify her, extracting a grape-sized piece of Malevolence, so she didn’t have that hanging over her head anymore. After doing so, she brushed her bangs aside, and that’s when it hit me. “Does it have something to do with your hair?”

“Yeah, it does,” she admitted. “When I was seven years old, there was a girl at my school named Jade Pinkerton. She wasn’t very nice.”

“Is this the same Jade who humiliated Sarah in eighth grade?”

“The very same. Knowing that she made both of us suffer was actually how we became such good friends.” She looked away; perhaps she liked Sarah as more than just a friend. Or maybe not; to the best of my knowledge, Josie was completely straight. “Well, anyway, when I was seven, my mom decided enough was enough and decided to invite her to a sleepover I was having with my friends, y’know, like a peace treaty.

“It was going so well, too. That is, until morning came and I found that while I was sleeping Jade had stuck a piece of gum on my pillow. The gum didn’t stick to the pillow that well and didn’t leave a stain, and good thing too because I really liked that one. But it _did_ stick to my _hair_.” She traced a large semicircular piece of brown lock right above the bridge of her nose. “Right there.”

“So you had to get your bangs docked, huh?” I asked. “Must’ve been a pretty big piece of gum if _that_ much of your hair got lost.”

She nodded. “For _months_ , I couldn’t hide when I wanted to feel safe, and seeing everybody staring at me…” She shuddered. “It was horrible. And now, people from my elementary school who are going _here_ keep bringing it up because they think it’s funny.”

“Which must’ve been how I heard of it,” I finished. “Josie, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“Katie said as much,” Josie sighed. “Kyla said we should’ve told you what incidents to include, and she’s right too. You know how I have two goldfinches?”

“Oklane and Lakni?”

“Truth be told, I used to have this enormous phobia of little birds. I have no idea _why_ , either.”

“Well, mockingbirds are deathly territorial and starlings are jerks, so it could be that.”

“Maybe. I dunno. Well, one day these two goldfinches started roosting under my windowsill, and they were really nice to me. So much so that they wanted to stay in the old shed in my backyard over the winter. So I went from hating little birds to loving them.” She laughed. “The irony right there is _hilarious_!”

I smiled. “Yeah, that _does_ sound funny.” I sighed. “Thanks, but...my father wants me dead, and I think Dr. Rockefeller wants to give me a really big punishment. He wants me out of my advisory, a year of detention, and to completely upend my schedule.”

Josie gasped. “All that because you drew my _feet_ ? When I’d asked for you to draw _all_ of me?”

“They won’t listen. I don’t think you’d be able to fix it.”

“Well,” Cataluka mused. “There is _one_ thing that she could do.”

“Cataluka, _no_.”

“Who are you talking to?” Josie asked.

I paled. I didn’t mean to say that out _loud_! “Uh…so why are you here?” I asked, deflecting the subject.

“I wanted to _try_ and go to Dr. Rockefeller’s office to clear things up, but when I was halfway there everything suddenly stopped moving! And then you ran away in tears, and I got so scared. Doug, what’s going on? Is the world coming to an end?”

“Well, the **Malevolent Era** is coming to an end, yes, but the world itself will be just fine and dandy. More than I can say for OURS,” Ryspiara suddenly muttered.

“You can hear that too, right?” Josie shivered.

“Loud and clear,” I grumbled.

“Oh, so she CAN hear you. Well then, Josephine, looks like you’re not going to get out of this one.”

“Yes, she CAN! Wiebraniec just needs one more to go before he can forge his way out of this!” I heard Cataluka snap. “And since she’s likely Itsen’s equivalent, she is no doubt the one who will be inducted next!”

“Guys, she’s scared. Shouldn’t we EXPLAIN this to her before Doug attempts to court her?” Ratchentka asked.

“KNOCK IT OFF, THE THREE OF YOU!” I snapped. The aliens fell into shocked silence. “Josie, allow me.” I performed a memory transfer to her, and her jaw dropped. “This is my life now. Girls I like sleep with me and help me save the universe. I know, you probably don’t like me romantically, but _they_ think you do. And when I have sex, I gain new powers.”

Josie blushed. “But I _do_ like you.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah. Ever since you showed me how nice you were I’ve had this weird, crazy crush on you that I’ve tried so hard to keep private. That’s why the portrait hurt my feelings as much as it did. Why would the guy I like hurt me so much?” She sniffled, and began crying. “Because I messed up everything, just like I always do, and now you’re going to die!”

“Josie!” I quickly hugged her tightly, and she stopped crying. “It’s not YOUR fault. Well, it is, but it’s not completely your fault either. It’s also my fault, and Kyla’s fault, and Buck’s fault, and Dr. Rockefeller’s fault, and my father’s fault. But above all else this is the doing of the Malevolence. Not you. We _can_ fix this.”

“Do I...have to have sex with you?”

“Eventually, yeah. But only when you’re ready to go that far. For now, we can just cuddle. I think you need that most of all right now.” Josie nodded weakly. We held each other, and stayed like that for quite some time. She closed her eyes 

_This is what you’d be missing out on if you left time completely frozen,_ DTL spoke. _These girls NEED your help, babe. And you’re the only one who can help them the way they need to be helped._

“You’re right,” I replied. “Josie?”

“Mm?”

“I’m sorry for hurting your feelings. I’d like to fix it.”

“Then use your powers to change the words in my description.”

“That would require getting it, and I don’t wanna leave you here.” Suddenly, the album teleported to me in a flash of purple. “Oh! Nevermind. Thanks, DTL.”

_No problem, as long as you show that cutie how much you love her!_ DTL replied.

I pointed at the words of the description and pointed at them. They now read: 

JOSIE: THE QUIET ONE

  * Doesn’t like making people angry



  * Has a lot of good ideas worth hearing



  * Finch hater turned finch marma



“Better?”

“A lot.” She paused. “Uh...if having sex is really how you’re going to figure out how to get out of this...I think I’m ready.”

“Y-you are?” I stammered.

“Yeah. Just...do what you want to my body, but be gentle.” She blushed, her sclerae flickering green.

“Well, first I’d like to strip you naked.” I did so with my powers. “And then I’d like to kiss you.” Josie nodded and leaned in. I captured my lips with hers, savoring her savory scent. “Not just your mouth, but all of you.

“Your face.” I kissed her cheeks, licking up her nose. She squeezed her eyes shut to avoid any stray spittle as I kissed her forehead.

“Your arms.” I trailed kisses down each arm, licked under each armpit, suckled on her lovely fingers, admiring her fingernails.

“Your chest.” I licked each breast, causing her to groan euphorically.

“Your belly.” I kissed her taut stomach.

“Your hips.” After using my powers to clean her, I suckled each asscheek, then rimmed her as Alyssa had done to me yesterday. Then I switched over to the front and briefly ate her out, causing her to moan even more and say things in what was probably Seminole that I didn’t quite understand.

“Your back.” I kissed the length of her spine, starting at her coccyx and working my way upwards to the base of her skull. She held her hair out of the way when I got to my neck. “Thank you.”

“And your legs.” I kissed her thighs and calves, then brought her feet together. I gently licked up and down her soles, taking in their herbal flavor, sucking her toes. She was gasping in delight.

“This...feels really nice, Doug,” she sighed dreamily. “I never knew getting my feet licked would feel so good! Maybe your foot fetish isn’t so bad after all. As long as you can control it, that is.”

“Don’t worry, I plan to.” I stopped, noticing her bashful expression. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“No! It’s just...can I...do the same to you? I want to show you how much _I_ love you.”

I blushed. “S-sure you can.” I let go of her feet, stripped myself naked, and lay on my back. She blushed when she saw my penis, then set to work loving me by doing the same things that I did to her in the exact same order that I’d done them in. She made out with me and kissed my various scars as if her kisses would heal them. She licked my nipples, ate my ass, bobbed her head up and down my cock, only stopping briefly to lick my balls. And she finished it off by worshiping my own feet, snaking her tongue between my toes.

“I could really get into this,” Josie sighed. She lay on her back again and spread her legs. “I’m ready now. And please, be gentle.”

“Gladly.” I rolled over so I was facing her, our stomachs touching. I slid myself inside of her vagina and she groaned. I slowly thrust myself in and out of her, slowly because I wanted to enjoy her warmth and heartbeat.

“What do you think the new power is going to be?” Josie asked.

“Don’t have a shadow of a doubt.” A shadow shaped like the word ‘DOUBT’ but backwards suddenly appeared next to me. “Oh, very funny!”

Josie laughed again. “Your powers are so _weird_ , Doug! But they’re good. They’re meant to help people.”

“Yeah, they are. And you’re helping me feel better because you told me you love me.”

“That’s because it’s true,” Josie smirked. “Kiss me?” I nodded and we mashed our lips together again.

After four minutes realtime, I was at my limit already. All that foreplay had really edged me to my limit. With a shudder, I came inside her. Then an index popped out in front of me.

“Is that what tells you you have a new power?” Josie asked.

“I guess so.” I read it. “‘Memetic Mutagen. Activated after having sexual intercourse eighteen times. Allows for the manipulation of memories. Memories can be edited, removed, created, or brought out of long-term memory into immediate consciousness. Voice-activated.’” My jaw dropped. “This is perfect!”

“Do all of your powers have names?” Josie asked, intrigued.

“They do. Stopping time is ‘Temporal Cessation’, making stuff out of nothing is ‘Conjuring’, my enhanced sexual stamina is apparently called ‘Magnum Dong’...”

“How fitting,” she snickered. Her black eyes lit up. “So this new power can save us! All we have to do is delete the memories of the three adults involved.”

“Not good enough. That’ll leave big gaps in their memories that they _will_ notice. If we take out their current memories, we’ll need to make new ones to trick them.”

“Hm…” Josie thought for a moment. “What if...Buck is just standing around, Rockefeller’s doing paperwork...what about your dad?”

“Staring at his email inbox and not doing jack,” I decided. “That should do it. Of course, you guys are gonna keep your memories of this, but a) I’m not powerful enough to manipulate too many memories in one go, and b) it doesn’t matter as much if _you_ guys know.”

“I don’t want to lie to my friends.”

“It’s a necessary thing we have to do to keep the Malevolence from having an excuse to increase how much control it has over people. Besides, you’re not going to be lying to Gwen and Sarah, since they’re already part of the harem.”

“Yeah…” Josie blushed. “I guess they _will_ know. Come on, let’s do it!” I nodded, reclothed us using my powers, and we raced to Dr. Rockefeller’s office.

“Josie, find Buck and bring him here. It’s going to be a lot easier if I can do all three revisions in one place.” She nodded and left. “Now, let’s see how this works…” I willed myself to grab at Rockefeller’s memories, and silver tendrils streaked with black and white flew out of my fingers and into his forehead. A flat loop of mottled black and white pulled itself out of the width of his head. His memories. I found that I could grab them, and by pulling the left side up I could see more memories. To the right, only blackness; no new memories were forming.

“I’m back,” Josie said, pushing an inanimate Buck into the room. “How goes it?”

“About to excise,” I replied. I sent a tendril into the loop, where I could see what he had seen (did I _really_ look like that?) and sliced the last patch of white just before the blackness off the blackness itself. A loop it was no more. “Go to when Buck told him about the portrait.” Another tendril pulled out the loop until it hit the moment when Buck began opening the door, then sliced it out. The old memory disintegrated almost immediately. To my shock, this opened something in his soul, and with some effort I extracted a piece of Malevolence about the size of an apple.

“Ewwwwww!” Josie screamed. “Was one of _those_ in _me_?!”

“Yours was a lot smaller,” I replied before turning back to Dr. Rockefeller. “New memory: filling in paperwork, then I come in.” The tendrils, capped at either end of the severed piece, drew towards each other, the new memory being deposited beneath them before the two ends melded themselves together. I pointed at his computer and more paperwork was done, evidenced by the white Word document becoming darker with additional letters.

I repeated the process with Buck, slicing out the original memory beginning when he turned his head and saw Squad Alpha laughing. With _him_ , I simply extended the memory that was already there. “That should do it.”

“Okay, that’s good. I’ll go back to my spot and then we’ll fix this.” Josie kissed me one last time, then did exactly that. With a sigh, I sat down and restarted time.

Dr. Rockefeller jolted back to life. “My goodness, today’s really dragging on, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” I said nervously. Good, it was working so far. “Frankly I thought that was supposed to happen at the _end_ of the school year, not at the _beginning_.”

“Me too,” Dr. Rockefeller agreed. The friendly spark in his eyes I was used to had returned. He didn’t remember a single thing about getting me in trouble. I was saved and it was all thanks to Josie. “So...why are you here?”

Uh-oh. I forgot to come up with an excuse for being there. “It’s…” Oh, _here_ we are. “It’s Leona. She started acting really mean to people all of a sudden last winter and...I’m worried about her. I mean, we used to be so close, and…”

He nodded. “She used to hang out with the girls who call themselves the ‘Triad’, right?”

“They told you?”

“Mm-hm. Last week.” Must’ve been after Lilah came clean about her breakup. With her purified, she would’ve been more willing to talk about her issues, and that included former friends turning into bullies. “And then another student said he was worried about Leona’s behavior too.” Judging by the use of “he”, it was probably Greyson, who was her neighbor. “We have a policy where we don’t investigate claims against a student unless five people report the same thing, and you just became that fifth person. I’m glad you told me.” He chuckled. “You really _do_ care about people, don’t you, Doug?”

“I can’t exactly help it.”

“Alright, take care.” I left the room. Behind me, I faintly heard him press buttons on his phone and say “Mr. Kindle? Can you send Leona to my office at the beginning of sixth period today?”

* * *

“Hey guys, we’re back!” I said as Josie and I entered the courtyard.

Kyla gulped. “Doug, are you in trouble? I’m so sorry if I got you in trouble because of my own selfishness!” Tears began welling up in her eyes.

“No, no, you’re fine!” I said hastily.

“I went over and explained everything to Dr. Rockefeller personally. He figured out that it was just a simple misunderstanding, so he let Doug go free on the grounds that he fix my description by replacing that...incident with something else that I actually find funny,” Josie half-lied.

Kyla calmed down. “Oh! That’s good, I guess. Can we see it?”

“Sure.” Josie handed the album to her and Kyla flipped to the last page, angling it so the other four could see it too, and I smiled as they did on reading the new words:

JOSIE: THE QUIET ONE

  * Doesn’t like making people angry



  * Has a lot of good ideas worth hearing



  * Finch hater turned finch marma



“MUCH better,” Gwen sighed happily. “Good thing we got all of this fixed in such a timely manner, huh?”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Dr. Rockefeller wasn’t too happy that Buck had wasted his time over something so stupid. Buck actually thought Josie didn’t like it because I drew her in sandals!”

“See? I TOLD you he was full of bullshit!”

“If I didn’t want people looking at my hands and feet, then I wouldn’t be painting my nails in the first place,” Josie hmphed.

“Glad there’s a faculty member in school who’s NOT a jackass,” Katie growled. “Which isn’t saying much, to be honest.” The bell rang. “Welp, I gotta go. See you later.” She grabbed her backpack and left the courtyard.

“I like this new confidence that you have about your body, Josie!” Kyla beamed. “You’re a pretty girl because you decided that you were pretty, and don’t let anyone say otherwise!”

Josie smiled. “Thanks a bunch, Kyla. If you hadn’t asked for it, then you wouldn’t have said such a nice thing about me.” The two girls left the same way Katie had, chatting amicably.

I was picking up my stuff, shoving the portraits into my folder and that into my backpack when I heard Gwen say “Wait.” I turned around to see her and Sarah approach me, small smiles on their faces. “Sarah and I know that you’ve _actually_ been involved with reality shenanigans,” Gwen said. “And we’re proud of you for talking things out with Josie.”

“You’re learning these boyfriend responsibilities pretty quickly,” Sarah agreed. “See you later, darling.” And then they left as well.

“What a relief,” I sighed as I followed them.

_Sweetie?_

“Yeah?” I asked DTL.

_You..._ aren’t _going to mess around with_ MY _memories, or the girls’ memories, right?_

“Of course not. I trust you guys not to hurt me like that.” I paused. _That, and I don’t think reality warpers can even have their memories altered anyways._

“That is correct,” Cataluka confirmed. “Trust me, we have tried to, how you say, ‘unsee’ certain things only to fail miserably and keep remembering them.” She shuddered. “So much ABDL porn...” I chuckled at this.

Six down, fifty-seven to go.

* * *

September 12, 2019. 

“Wow, this is AWESOME!” Vanessa exclaimed as she looked at the album herself. Vanessa Oriol was a member of Squad Beta, a fiery girl who was the very definintion of large ham. She was tall, 5’9” with honey-brown skin, dark brown hair, and surprisingly violet eyes. She was wearing a red t-shirt with the Kikehuwet Railsplitters(our baseball team)’s emblem, black short shorts with neon yellow highlights, and size 10 indigo ankle-strap sandals. Her fingernails and toenails were a matching robin’s-egg blue, and her lips were painted dark brown.

“You really think so?” I asked.

“Yeah I do!” She slapped it down. “You really captured the spirit of Squad Alpha, dude. Hey, you should do a Squad Beta version next! I happen to know I look GREAT in all-brown, AND I have brown-strapped Birkenstocks too!”

“Then come to school dressed in all-brown and I’ll see what I can do.” She smiled at this.

“Hey guys,” Cameron-chan said as she approached us, a day just like yesterday. The small Japanese girl had a piece of paper in her left hand. “I saw Kyla’s insta post last night. Not bad at all, Doug. In fact, it inspired _me_ to do some drawing of my own.”

“Really?” I asked. “Why?”

She grinned cheekily as she handed over the paper. “Because what’s a complete rainbow without orange?” My eyes widened when I saw how she’d drawn me. In the drawing, I was wearing a solid orange t-shirt and Mayari Birkenstocks with matching straps, my nails painted in the same color, and my shirt worn underneath a burnt orange romper with tiny black speckled. But it wasn’t just that. My hair reached my shoulders, I had eye crap on, and...were those _breasts_?!

“Had to genderbend you so it’d work,” Cameron-chan shrugged nonchalantly.

“Lookin’ good!” Vanessa beamed at me. “This is an AWESOME look for ya, dude!”

_Although all I can see of that drawing of you is a black, formless stick figure with eyes and clothes, that WOULD be a good look for you even_ without _genderbending,_ DTL said approvingly. _After all, I_ LOVE _seeing guys wearing women’s shoes._

I laughed nervously. “Heh heh, yeah…”

If only.

If…

Only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t like angsty stories. Unfortunately, sometimes they’re the only way lasting character development happens.
> 
> Doug has used his powers to avoid being disciplined disproportionately. Now what? Stay tuned to find out…
> 
> And please give me your lovely reviews! I’ll respond like so:
> 
> Person: Does Doug even need a harem?
> 
> Yes.


	8. Mi Querida

September 13, 2019 AD. 

Kikehuwet, Delaware. 

Doug Vision 

“Hey Cindy, are you going to the dance tomorrow?” Liam asked.

“I can’t, have to grade the first Physics quizzes,” Cindy shrugged. “Have to make sure AP Mechanics is the right choice for some people, after all.” She was wearing a dark blue t-shirt, dark green short shorts with black and white accents, and dark blue sneakers with white soles and violet markings.

“Ah,” Liam nodded. “How’d I do?”

“Uh-uh, no sneak peaks,” Cindy replied. “You get them after advisory same as everybody else.”

I watched this exchange. “Do you think he was going to try to ask _her_ out?” I asked.

“Liam’s not THAT dumb,” Alyssa chuckled. She was wearing a black t-shirt, dark gray cargo shorts, and black flip-flops. “You know how he is.” I nodded, then stopped time so she and Lilah weren’t frozen. “Yeah, sweetie?”

“What is it?” Lilah asked. She was wearing a light pink v-neck t-shirt with a flap of fabric around the shoulders, khaki capri pants, and light brown Dr. Scholl’s slides.

“Uh...would either of you like to be my date to the dance tomorrow?” I asked nervously.

“Sorry dude, I’ve got a lacrosse game from six onwards,” Lilah frowned. “Can’t make it.”

“And I’ve got family coming tomorrow,” Alyssa sighed. “That, and going out so soon after a break-up might raise some eyebrows.”

_Obvious reason is obvious,_ DTL added to me and me alone.

I sighed. “Yeah, figures.”

“You okay? You don’t _have_ to bring a date to the dance, you know,” Lilah pointed out. “Connor, Ichiro and Shane aren’t. Penny, Faith, and Harper aren’t. You can have a good time just by yourself.”

“I know, but...I don’t want to be lonely. That always happens at dances like this.”

“Oh, _babe_ ,” Alyssa whimpered. She got up and hugged me. “We may not be there physically, but we’ll always be there in your heart.”

“Just as you are for us,” Lilah added, joining in.

“Really?”

“Well, _duh_ . Why do you think the lacrosse team’s any _good_?”

* * *

My Friday free happened to be shared with all of Squad Alpha. That turned out to be the extent of it. “Sorry Doug, but we’ve got a game tomorrow at the same time,” Sarah said gently. “We’d make it if we could, but we can’t.”

“We can spend time with you in other ways!” Gwen chirped. Her scleras flickered green, as did Josie’s.

“Josie, are you sure you want to do this so...soon after your induction?” I asked as soon as I’d stopped time. 

“I think so,” Josie replied, blushing bright red. “Gwen, I hope this won’t make things between us awkward.”

“Awkward my _butt!_ ” Gwen scoffed. “Now I _know_ that I can make dirty jokes around you without freaking you out!” She picked up her smaller friend-turned-girlfriend and kissed her full on the mouth. Josie’s eyes bugged out and she was catatonic after the kiss broke. “And _speaking_ of butts,” Gwen added, pulling down the hems of her black tights and dark blue boxers so her ass was hanging out.

“Uh…” I said after cleaning her anus.

“What?”

“I think we broke Josie…”

“Oh dear.”

* * *

“Sorry Doug, but I need to use tomorrow for homework. _Arranging_ the dance left me behind on my assignments,” Gina frowned when I caught her at the beginning of lunch to see if my last resort was available (as you can clearly see, she was not). She was wearing a purple polo t-shirt with a brick red skirt, white low-cut Converse, and white socks. Her lips were bare and natural.

“Why is it that I have _seven_ girlfriends and _none_ of them are available tomorrow?” I sighed.

“You should’ve known better than to ask us out on Friday the thirteenth,” she quipped. I frowned even harder. “Too soon?”

“A little.”

“Chin up, sweetie. You have fifty-six other girlfriends whose identities are currently unknown. There’s a good chance that one of them might be at the dance and will want to spend time with you.”

“You think so?” I asked.

“It’s too likely to happen for me to discount it,” she smiled.

* * *

I sighed as I made my way over to the Triad’s table, having finished my lunch already. There seemed to be a lot of commotion over there. “Oh! Doug! Just in time!” Querida exclaimed. She was wearing a dull brown blouse, gray pants, black Adidas with white accents and light blue socks, and blood red lipstick. Her lilac nails were chipping, so the polish needed to be replaced sometime soon.

“For what?” I asked.

“To hear about the AWESOME THING THAT JUST HAPPENED TO ME! C’mon, sit down!”

I shrugged. “Not like I have anything better to do.” So I sat down next to her. It was nice, being close to somebody so warm. “What happened?”

“I asked Rodrigo if he would go to tomorrow’s dance with me, and he said yes!”

“...I thought Rodrigo didn’t like you.”

“He doesn’t.” That had been Maddie, the youngest but easily the wisest of the Issawris. She was wearing a light gray t-shirt, dark green yoga pants, and black sneakers with blue accents and white socks with dark gray accents. Her fingernails were painted taupe, her lips dark red. “But Querida wanted to make better friends with him, and he looks like he’s willing. Rachel’s a bit more skeptical, though. Isn’t she?”

“You know damn well I have every right to be skeptical,” Rachel retorted. Rachel was a girl who knew more poetry than I did (Shakespeare, Jack Prelutsky, and that was it for me) and was well-known for being a rabblerouser. She stood at 5’4” with coal black eyes and fruit punch red hair that went to her butt, currently tied into an absolutely **MASSIVE** ponytail with a pale green bow-adorned hair tie. She was wearing a dark blue t-shirt with NO, I _DON’T_ CARE WHAT YOU THINK, black cargo shorts, and size 7 Florida Birkenstocks with light pink straps and white soles. Her fingernails were unpainted, while her toenails were done in indigo. “What would he have to gain from saying he’d be your date tomorrow?”

“My companionship?” Querida guessed.

“It may have worked for us, but it might not work for _him_. And who’s to say he’ll keep his word? What if he doesn’t show up?”

“He’d probably tell me if his plans changed. Look, Rachel, I get that you’re worried, and I respect that. But I gotta take this risk, y’know? I’m not hoping to get a romantic relationship out of him, I just want him to take me seriously and this dance is the best time to do that.”

“Alright,” Rachel sighed. “I wish you luck. What about you, Doug? Who’s _your_ date?”

“I...don’t have one. Everybody I’ve asked is busy tomorrow.”

“That’s a shame,” Rachel murmured. “Were I not already bringing Trent I might bring _you_ there myself.” Trent was Rachel’s boyfriend. He was kind of clueless.

“Xuan, why don’t _you_ bring him?” Emily asked. Emily was a nerd through and through and the only one who truly could reign in the force of nature that was Hannah Sobsuin. Her blonde hair had ten indigo streaks in it, and her eyes were coal black. She was wearing a light yellow t-shirt with holes for her shoulders, ice gray short shorts, and light yellow Vans slip-ons with white soles. Her fingernails were an ashy blue color.

“Can’t,” Xuan replied. “SAT prep classes.”

“So your parents ARE making you take them,” Lilah mused.

“Yeah, they weren’t too happy that my PSAT was so much lower than my class grades,” Xuan replied. “I suck _ass_ at multiple choice tests. Damn things always confuse me.”

“And what’s wrong with sucking ass?” Querida asked, slightly miffed.

An awkward pause. “Well, it’s not very _clean_ , now is it?” Bridgette, who’d remained silent the whole time, finally decided to say.

“Carrie, _what_ are we going to do with you?” Maddie sighed.

“Search me,” I shrugged.

“Literally?” Lilah grinned.

“Oh, not _you_ too. ONE pervert is enough. And if **I** have to say it...”

“Ha!” Querida laughed. “Anyway, I gotta go to the bathroom. Gotta make sure that my period doesn’t mess up my favorite panties, after all. _Disculpe._ ” She squeezed out of the table and made her way to the bathroom.

“She has no concept of shame, does she?” Maddie sighed, shaking her head.

“A little shamelessness is good!” I protested. “Shame is often a machineration of adults who lost all sensibilitillness about what fun is.”

“ _That_ much, though?”

“Dunno, I’m probably the wrong person to ask this.”

“Yeah, ‘cuz _you_ don’t care about rules that are bullshit,” Emily smirked. “And speaking of caring…” She rounded on one of the readheads. _“Rachel.”_

“What?”

“You seemed to _really_ care that Querida was going out with Rodrigo, weren’t you?”

“Well, yeah! Rodrigo’s a jackass! I don’t want to see her unhappy!” Rachel snapped.

“Me either. But you seemed a little... _too_ unhappy,” Emily mused. “It seemed like you don’t want her going with Rodrigo, but with _you_ instead.”

“I DO NOT!” Rachel turned as red as her hair, either out of embarrassment or out of rage. I decided to purify Emily before she did anything stupid. I’d get Rachel another time.

“Em, most people are straight,” Xuan chided.

“And you’re absolutely certain Rachel is?” Emily countered.

“Has she ever wanted to kiss _you?_ ”

Emily nodded thoughtfully. “No, so you’re probably right. But you gotta admit she was _really_ intense about telling Carrie not to go out with Rodrigo.”

“That’s because Rachel’s intense about _everything_ ,” I pointed out.

“Ah.”

“That…” Rachel paused, her face no longer red. “I’m not even mad, because that’s totally true. Anyway, Doug, I have something to ask of you.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Keep an eye on Querida during the dance, would ya? Rodrigo’s always been mean to her, so it makes little sense why he’d be asking her to be his date unless it’s for status or so he can mess with her. Either way, I don’t want her leaving the dance in tears, and I won’t be able to look after her by myself, even _with_ Trent’s help.”

“You’re...certain I can do this?”

“You’re Douglas Magnum. You survive your father on a daily basis and clocked a gunman over the head with a plastic lawn chair,” she smirked. “You’re one of the few people who _can_ help.”

I sat up taller. “Then I guess I know what I’m doing tomorrow.”

* * *

September 14, 2019 AD.

“ARE YOU CRAZY?!” That. _That_ is what I was going to be doing today. Listening to Fatass kvetch about buying a chair mat.

“Why can’t you just buy a mat?” Mom asked.

“Because, _Nya_ , I cannot just Go and Buy a Chair Mat. I have to know the Size I Need. The one right there,” _he_ said, indicating the plastic thing underneath _his_ office chair, “Gets Pushed In all the Time. I need One that Does Not.”

“So measure the one you’ve got already and add a few feet in one dimension,” I grunted. “Boom. Done. I’m certain that they make four-by-fives if they made a three-square.”

_He_ growled. “Douglas, it is Not That Simple. I hhhhave to make sure that it Fits the Desk. And I need to Measure it if I am to Know.”

“Then _measure it,_ ” Mom said, slightly miffed now.

_He_ got up and did so, remarking “I liked you Better when you Didn’t Talk Back.”

“How was that talking back?” I whispered.

“I have no idea,” Mom whispered back. _He_ returned to his desk with a tape measure. 

“One of you needs to Get a Clipboard to Write it Down.” I sighed and got the damn clipboard and an orange post-it note, then wrote as he measured. “Sixty inches Wide. Twenty-five inches Deep.”

“Four-by-five’s looking pretty good right now,” I remarked. “We done?”

“Yes, I Believe that is Enough.” I shrugged and went upstairs. “Where are You Going?”

“Need to figure out what I’m wearing for the dance tonight.”

“…What Dance?!”

“There’s a dance?” Mom asked.

“The one tonight for school? Which I’ve been telling you about since it was announced on Thursday?”

“Oh, _that_ dance,” she remembered.

I sighed. _I wonder what Querida’s doing._

* * *

Querida Vision 

“Querida, can you help me with my homework?” Aviva asked me as she entered my room.

“I can try, but I won’t be able to write anything,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Um, hello? Wet nails?” I showed her my hands and feet. It was time to do my nails again and I’d decided to go with white.

“I see.” She thought for a moment. “Can I ask you the questions and you just tell me your answers?”

“Sure thing, _hermanita_. What’s up?”

“It’s this stuff about Animal Farm. I need to talk about a character and how they’re an allegory for real people.”

“Which one did you get?” I asked, remembering the assignment from when _I_ was in ninth grade.

“The horse. The big, dumb one, not the arrogant twit who cheesed it.”

“Oh, Boxer! That’s easy. He’s the working class. He’s big and strong and has a lot of heart but is easily swayed by people in power. Spoiler alert: he works himself to death.”

“I figured he was going to die,” Aviva shrugged, “so I’m not _too_ upset.” She paused. “Speaking of upsets, what are you going to wear to the dance?”

“I was gonna wear the cyan one. Y’know, a little flirty but a little modest. You know how I be.”

“Yeah. _Unfortunatemente_.”

I paused. “Wait. Upset?”

“Because why are you going to it with Rodrigo? Why not just go alone, like some of your friends are doing? Or with Adam, who’s a nice guy? Or with Doug, the guy you ACTUALLY HAVE A CRUSH ON AND CAN’T KEEP IT IN YOUR _PANTALONES_ FOR?!”

I blushed. “W-well...I’m just nervous about whether Doug would turn me down.”

“A guy THAT desperate?” Aviva scoffed. “Don’t make me laugh, _loquita_.”

“There’s a bunch of OTHER girls he’d like to ask out besides me! He said he’d already asked _quite_ a few” I sighed. “Besides, making friends with Rodrigo would mean a lot to me. It’d mean that love truly can conquer all.” I thought back to the times where Rodrigo had driven me away from him just for saying hello.

Aviva sighed. “Querida, your optimism is precious. _Será una pena cuando el mundo finalmente te rompa._ ” She left the room. “Thanks for the homework help, I guess.”

* * *

Doug Vision 

“Good luck!” Mom called as she drove off. I sighed. Here I was. At the dance. Going inside...

I soon found myself face-to-face with a big table of people. Most of them were annoyingly cheerful and I steered clear of them and headed right for Principal Finster’s spot. “Oh, boo hoo! The big baby doesn’t want a lei!” one of the annoyingly cheerful girls sneered.

“Back off!” someone snapped. I turned around and found Suyin right behind me. “Ignore them, Doug. You’re here to have a good time and no one can stop you.”

“Thanks, Su. Why are _you_ here?”

She shrugged. “Slow week. Needed to keep myself busy, I guess.” She was wearing a black dress with simple white sandals, her fingernails and toenails painted a matching pale yellow. She turned her head to look over her shoulder. “Ted, where the hell _are_ you?!”

“I’m coming! Sheesh, Yin, I was only gone a minute,” Ted complained as he took his place beside her.

“Ted?” I asked, confused.

“Mom wanted me to go with Suyin so she could keep me in line,” Ted said. He smirked. “Like _that’ll_ stop me.”

“It _will_ ,” Suyin barked, elbowing him in the side. “No funny business, okay? Last thing I want is a repeat of last year’s punch incident.” She grimaced. “So much _blue_ …”

I approached Principal Finster. “Hi, I’m here for the, uh, dance.”

“Name, advisory, and favorite color.”

“Doug Magnum, Room 222, and RGB 0-128-0.” She cocked an eyebrow, and I sighed. “Green.”

She looked through the cards on the table. “Ah, Doug Magnum. Here you are.” She handed me a nametag that I gingerly stuck on my shirt, careful to put in on perfectly straight. “Have a good night.”

“Thanks.” I turned around and entered the cafeteria, where the dance was held.

“Doug!” Rachel said when she saw me. She was wearing a modest blue dress with black dress shoes. Her lips were done in an absolutely gorgeous dark purple color. “Good to see you. Querida hasn’t shown up yet, but once she does we’ll be ready.”

“Ready for everything!” Trent said as he approached us. He was your average teenage white boy, with reddish-brown hair partially obscuring his eyes. “How are you, man?”

“Been better. Music selection could use a little work,” I said, indicating the DJ booth, where “Baby Shark” was playing. If you could call it that. Music selection, I mean.

“Ugh, I know,” Rachel grimaced. “Some delinquent requested that as soon as we showed up. Pretty sure it was Diana, because she _knows_ how much I despise that repetitive piece of trash.”

“Besides the _obvious_ fact that hiding in rocks might not protect those fish from predation,” I added.

“And sharks _don’t_ parent their children, as far as I know,” she added.

“Predation?” Trent asked. “From what?”

“Eels, octopus, smaller species of sharks, particularly angry shrimp, the list goes on,” I said, counting off on my fingers.

“Riiiiiight,” Trent said, nodding. “Sharks aren’t the only things that eat fish, got it. Oh hey, there’s Ted.” He found Ted. “Hey Ted! Remember the punch incident?”

“ _YOU_ ARE _NOT_ ENCOURAGING HIM, EITHER!” Suyin roared.

“...eep.”

Watching the squabble unfold before them, Rachel sighed and facepalmed. “I still question why I agreed to go out with him last spring. We have next to nothing in common.”

“I have next to nothing in common with almost _everyone_ , and yet here we are, friends. I think we’re friends?” I asked.

“We are,” she smiled sweetly.

“Good. See, I’m proof enough that people of all walks of life can get along somehow. But it’s just too much to ask for people to get past that, isn’t it?”

“Or perhaps it’s indicative of how what people have in common isn’t always so obvious.”

I liked that explanation better, and told her as much.

* * *

Querida Vision 

“Here we are, _hijos_ ,” Dad said as our car, a white fourth-generation Subaru Outback, pulled up in front of the school.

“Thanks again, Dad. You didn’t have to do this, you know,” I said.

“Ah, but would I _ever_ miss my firstborn son and daughter’s school dances?” he grinned cheekily.

I giggled. “Not for the world.”

Marco, my big brother and a senior at Grant, sighed. “Unfortunately.”

“Stay safe, don’t drink anything someone tells you to drink, and call me when you’re ready to go home.” We got out, and Dad practically shot out of the parking lot and into the night.

“And if Rodrigo doesn’t show, it won’t be the end of the world,” Marco added.

“Sheesh, first Rachel, then Aviva, and now you. Who next?” I sighed.

“I would say Fonsi, but he’s still a baby right now.” Marco sighed. “Look, ever since middle school when you met that _bufón_ he’s been nothing but hostile and mean to you. I wouldn’t put it past him to tell you he’s gonna come and not do it just to make you feel bad.”

“I know, it’s just...I gotta hope that things can change for the better.”

“Doesn’t always work, though,” Marco scoffed. “Our president is proof of that.”

* * *

_Unfortunately for Querida, her friends and family were right. “You’re not going?” asked a friend from St. Jones High on the other end of the phone._

_Rodrigo laughed. “Of course not! Sanchez is_ so _annoying! She actually thinks that I want to be friends with her!” He scoffed. “Tch, what a child.”_

_“But you’ll waste a ticket,” the friend pointed out. “And money.”_

_Rodrigo cocked an eyebrow that the other boy couldn’t see from the other end of the line. “Ah, but she only_ thinks _I bought a ticket, Castor. And she’s not the Student Council’s treasurer, so she’ll have no way of knowing I’m not coming until it’s too late.”_

_Castor laughed. “Now THAT is a good plan, man! She’ll be so upset!”_

_“And,” Rodrigo chuckled, “when I come to school on Monday and pretend I never said I’d go with her? I’ll revel in her tears.”_

**_Well,_ ** _mused the Malevolence, so low that the boys couldn’t hear it,_ **_provided that someone_ ** **else** **_doesn’t provide her with a pick-me-up first. I’d better do some damage control..._ **

* * *

Doug Vision 

“Oh hey, Querida’s here!” Rachel exclaimed. I saw the girl in question enter, and my jaw dropped. “Doug?”

“...Gah.”

Rachel grinned. “Doug, we are not codfish.” She closed my mouth for me. “She _does_ look quite beautiful, though, so I don’t really blame you.” Emily might’ve been onto something regarding Rachel’s possible bisexuality. She usually was.

But Rachel was right, Querida looked drop-dead _gorgeous_. She’d chosen her attire for the dance well: a modest cyan dress, black lipstick, dark blue hiking sandals, and matching white fingernails and toenails. She strode into the room, and in that moment all eyes were on her.

_“¡Hola, todo!”_ Querida boomed. _“¡Vamos a empezar esta fiesta!”_ The music picked up into a more tasteful funk.

“Vamos a...let’s get this...party started,” I translated to myself, working the words out on my fingers.

“What up, girls?” Querida said, approaching me and Rachel.

“Uh...I’m a boy,” I said nervously.

She ignored me. “So what’s up?”

“Not much, you missed Baby Shark.”

“Someone actually had the nerve to ask for that?” Querida asked, incredulous. “And this coming from _me_ , the mistress of the Crash Bandicoot remix.”

“Suyin also roasted the crap out of me and Ted for wanting another punch incident,” Trent admitted sheepishly, finally returning.

“Hey, in her defense the cafeteria smelled like fake fruit for a week and everything tasted weird,” Querida replied.

“Good thing I usually eat elsewhere,” I remarked.

“I’ve noticed that. Why?” Trent asked.

“Well... _someone_ keeps yelling at me for eating ‘Too Fast’ or ‘Too Big a Bite’,” I scoffed. “Says everyone I know’s going to turn on me the moment they see me eat.”

“The fuck?” Rachel asked. “He _watches_ you eat? That’s pretty creepy, if I do say so myself.”

“Yeah,” Trent agreed. “ _My_ dad always told me it was rude to stare.”

“ _His_ dad told _him_ it was rude to stare,” I replied. My stomach growled.

“Speaking of food, why don’t we hit up the food table?” Querida asked. “We’ve paid for it with our ticket prices, so why the hell not?”

“Yeah, I admit that I’m getting a little hungry,” Rachel said. “Let’s hope they don’t put weird shit in the tuna sandwiches again.” We waited for the second round of food to come, and then we began our hunt.

* * *

They _did_ , in fact, put weird shit in the tuna sandwiches again. Lettuce, tomatoes, mustard...yuck. How people can stand that stuff, I’ll never know.

Rachel chose the least objectionable of the sandwiches and left Querida and I to continue searching for food by ourselves. “Sheesh,” Querida tsked, looking through the offerings. “For such a wealthy school you’d think Grant would splurge on the appetizers. Or at the very least get catered by people who actually _knew_ a thing or two about cooking.”

“Querida, we’re not athletes. Then and _only_ then would they splurge.”

“Oh, right. Lilah must be pretty lucky if that’s the case.” She looked at me. “Y’know, I heard about how you were the first to find out that Drake dumped her. I’m proud of you.”

“You are?”

“Yeah man. You didn’t give up when you sensed that something was wrong. You’re pretty good at that, y’know?”

I nodded. “Carrie?”

“Yeah?”

“Are _you_ okay? Rodrigo hasn’t shown up yet, and I know you were really looking forward to making up with him.”

“Yeah, I know,” she sighed. “Maybe traffic’s just bad. He’s a jerk, but I don’t want him to get hurt.”

However, it was quite plain to me that he wasn’t going to show up. At all. Why was she deluding herself like this? “Well,” I decided, changing the subject, “I hope you’re at least having a good time.”

“I am!” she beamed, nearly slugging me in the shoulder before thinking better of it and hugging me. “You’ve been a dear and it’s only been five minutes.”

“Funny, I thought _you’d_ be the dear what with that being your name and all.” She laughed like a maniac.

“What? You’re _here?_ ”

Uh-oh.

_That_ was Danielle. The pale-skinned, half-Manchurian girl glared at me. “You seriously followed me all the way here. As if having an elective with you wasn’t awkward enough.”

“Danielle, I’m–”

“I _don’t_ want to hear it, Doug. Trying to creep on me again?”

“Danielle, Doug isn’t here because of _you_ , he’s here because Rachel invited him,” Querida sniped. “So back off, please.”

Danielle nodded. “I see. I was mistaken.” And then she left.

“Doug? Doug, it’s okay. I don’t know what her problem is, but I won’t let her ruin your good time.” She led me to a table and we sat down. “Want me to get you some of that pizza I noticed in the back?” I nodded, trying to hold back tears. “Okay. Be right back, darling.”

* * *

“Better?” she asked ten minutes later, reaching for my hand and squeezing it oh-so-gently.

“Yeah,” I sighed. She’d gotten herself and I two slices of plain cheese pizza and two grape sodas. “Thanks.”

“It’s what I do.”

I paused. No use fighting the compulsion any longer. “I like your pedicure, by the way.”

“Thanks!” Querida flexed her white-painted toes. “This is White on White by Revlon. Reasonable price but runny as _hell_ . Took for-fucking- _ever_ to dry this morning.”

“Good to know in case I need to buy one for someone’s birthday,” I remarked.

Querida gasped. “Are you going to give me a birthday present?”

“I would, if _someone_ wasn’t constantly nagging me about everything I buy with my own money.”

She deflated. “Oh…”

“Don’t be sad, I’ll figure something out.” _Do any of my powers let me get stuff for free?_ I asked in my mind.

_Yep!_ DTL replied. _“Pop-up” lets you pull on an image and it’ll manifest a physical copy of it in real life! Saved me a lot of time, money, and trouble whenever I had to get new clothes._

_Right, your parents know about this thing._ DTL’s parents were Kolega, part of a small group of people outside of my harem who were allowed to know the truth so they could help us. _Hey, that reminds me, what do they think about me?_

_Mom thinks you’re a sweetheart. Dad doesn’t want you to be a bad influence on my already-high libido but is otherwise completely fine with you._

_Good to know._

“Doug?” I jolted awake. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just...thinking about stuff.”

“Like Danielle?” Querida asked. “Why doesn’t she like you anymore?” She paused. “It was the foot thing, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “I decided to tell her, and she...didn’t take it very well. Freaked out and ran.”

“Did you talk a bit too much about it and made her uncomfortable?”

“I did that _one time_ with Tessa, who doesn’t know how to take a compliment from a guy, and now I can’t ever live it down,” I sighed. Querida nodded knowingly; when I decided to tell Tessa about it, I’d gotten a bit too specific about the specifics of my fetish and she fainted. “I know better than to do that now. Now I only dive into it with Gwen and Jessica because they’re also into it, and to a lesser extent you and Eva because Eva’s a barefooter and likes knowing that how much foot care she does pays off, and you because you don’t mind this kind of stuff that much.”

“I _am_ a total pervert,” she admitted sheepishly.

“I’d barely gotten anything out with Danielle when she got upset. Am I...really that bad of a friend?”

“If you ask me, _she_ was the worse one of the two of you,” Querida shrugged. “Don’t beat yourself up over something you can’t really help. Besides, maybe she was just in a bad mood that day and someday soon she’ll calm down enough to actually talk to you about it.”

“It’s been three months.”

She gave me a small smile and squeezed my right hand. “That just means she’s three months closer to talking to you again.”

* * *

Thirty minutes later, I decided it was time to return to the dance floor. Querida was standing at the door, waiting to see if Rodrigo had, in fact, come. Seizing the opportunity to purify her, I did so. To my astonishment, the piece inside her was the size of a grain of sand. The Querida I knew wasn’t hiding much of anything, if anything at all.

I’d gotten to know someone who was completely open with everything.

Well, _almost_ everything.

“Doug, remember why I asked you to come,” Rachel said, noticing that I was watching her.

“I know,” I replied. “Make sure she’s happy even if she’s let down.”

Rachel smirked. I did _not_ like that smirk. “Well, it wasn’t the _only_ reason I asked you to come, I must admit.”

“It isn’t?”

She chuckled. “You two make quite the cute couple. I mean, you _were_ aware of that absolutely _massive_ crush that she has on you?” She blinked. “Oh...you _weren’t_. Right, you’re autistic, you’re not going to register that kind of thing all the time.”

I couldn’t believe it. Querida actually _liked_ me? Romantically? So the two years of flirting weren’t _just_ trying to rile me up, but genuine attempts to seduce me?

_Sweetie, there are literally over five dozen people who like you, why are you surprised by this?_ DTL asked, raising a dark eyebrow in my mind’s eye.

_Because,_ I thought back to DTL, _I wasn’t expecting it to be so nonexistent-goddamned OBVIOUS._ Man _, I’m not perceptive._

“You should’ve seen Talu when _she_ was your age,” one of the Dewiantow chuckled, blackish-gray eyes momentarily flickering into view. “She was _such_ a _dork!_ ”

“Annnnnnd just like that, Galla’s lost television privileges for tonight,” Cataluka harrumphed.

“Aw, you’re no fun.”

“Still no sign of him,” Querida said, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Hey, we don’t need him,” I said, trying (and failing) to sound smug. “Just you, me, and the right kind of music.” Suddenly, the generic rap in the background shifted to a much more palatable, but unusual selection.

“‘Friends with Tractors’?” Querida asked.

“I think I know _who_ asked for that,” Suyin scowled as she approached us, dragging Ted behind her.

“Ted?” I asked.

“Yeah, dude?”

I clapped his shoulder; had I done that right? “Thanks. This is one of my favorite songs.” And Querida and I left to the dancefloor, making sure to bask in their stupefied looks.

“Is it actually one of your favorites?” Querida snickered.

“It is! I unironically like this song, promotion of wanton environmental destruction via diesel fumes aside.”

“I guess you find it very...a- _tract_ -ive!” she cackled.

I guffawed. “You must really like really stupid puns.”

“I’m native-born Mexican, baby!” she laughed. _“¡El juego de palabras está en nuestra sangre!”_

“Hey, I actually understood that!” I realized.

“Good! The more, the merrier!”

“Hey, Alyssa could _always_ use some backup,” I grinned.

Querida smirked. “And it’s time I showed you exactly _what_ I’m capable of.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me to her, fast enough that I went flying into her. Our chests touched momentarily, and for the briefest of moments I saw her blush.

“Get it, Doug!” Ted whooped, having apparently come to by now. I flipped him off, hoping he wouldn’t be mad at me. By the sound of his laugh, he wasn’t.

It was nice, doing our square dance-esque moves on the dancefloor. I was with someone I loved, and she was happy to be there. Nothing could go wrong just yet.

Or, rather, it could, when we came face-to-face with Leona. She was wearing a blood red dress with size 8 ½ black sandals, her fingernails and toenails painted a matching black, her lips a nude pink. She bore her many rings, as usual: a gold ring on the fourth and a silver ring on the fifth finger of her left hand, a silver ring each on her second and fourth of her right, a gold ring on her third and a silver one on the second toe of her left foot, and a gold ring each on the second and fifth toe of her right. This was one of the few times I’d seen her without her trademark hat.

Her eyes narrowed at us, particularly me. “ _You._ ”

“Yes, Leona, Doug is here. Did you honestly think he wouldn’t be?” Querida shot back. She’d been hurt by Leona’s departure from her friendgroup as much as the Triad had.

“It’s not that, I’ve just got a few _bones_ to pick with him,” she sneered.

“What for?”

“Querida, it’s me she wants, it’s not your concern,” I said, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Anything _Señorita Vestido_ _Vana_ can say to you, she can say to me,” Querida retorted.

“...Did you just call Leona Miss Vain Dress?”

“It _fits_ , doesn’t it?!”

“Querida, do me a solid and just, _shut up_ ,” Leona snapped. Querida narrowed her eyes, the normal warmth of her brown eyes replaced with an inner flame, but she wisely held her tongue. “Don’t play stupid with _me_ , Doug. _Someone_ told Dr. Rockefeller that I was bad news and now I have to spend all of my lunch periods in his office for the next month.”

“Were your parents mad?” I asked.

“Of course they weren’t!” she scoffed. “My parents don’t fucking _care_ about what happens to me, remember? As long as I’m not dead, they’ll look the other way. But stop trying to change the subject. **Did you report me to Dr. Rockefeller?** ”

“It could’ve been anyone,” I fibbed. “You know how their policies work. Five people have to report something before the administration’s confident enough to investigate it.”

“Aha! So you DID rat me out!” Her manic grin of delight was unsettling. Whatever happened to the Leona who reassured me when everything seemed lost? What did the Malevolence _do_ to her?!

“No, I just read the part in our agendas that discussed the code of conduct. And by _I_ read it, my father lectured me about every little detail that _he_ couldn’t understand no matter how many times I explained it.” I shuddered at the memory.

Leona nodded. “Hmph. I’ve met your dad once, he avoided me like the plague for some reason, and he _does_ have a problem shutting up. I’ll let you off the hook for now, but seriously, you and Querida? When did _that_ happen?”

“Jealous, are we?” Querida asked, grinning like a little shit.

Leona spluttered, turning as red as her dress. “I am not!”

“Den _i_ al.”

Leona huffed. “Just answer the damn question already, I haven’t got all night.”

“Well, if you _really_ must know, Rodrigo’s a little late tonight and Doug couldn’t find a date. I was here anyway, so I thought I might hang out with him and Rachel and Trent.” Querida shrugged. “It’s nothing juicy, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

Leona laughed. “What’s so funny?” Querida asked, confused.

“I do that sometimes when I remember something dumb I found on the internet,” I whispered to her.

“Okay, okay,” Leona sighed, wiping an imaginary tear from her left eye. “ _Doug_ not being able to find a date? That’s completely normal. Poor guy just can’t talk to girls,” she shrugged.

“Hey, I’m autistic, I can’t talk to _anyone_ right,” I protested.

“I know, but _you_ make your dorkiness an art form. Hey, _some_ girl’s probably into that, so don’t worry about it.”

_I happen to BE “some” girl,_ DTL snarked in my head. _One of many, in fact._

_If only she knew,_ I mentally agreed, trying to make it look like I was silently fuming. And if only _I_ knew, I would later discover.

“But _Querida?_ Oh, that’s just _sad_ , girl,” Leona sighed, dropping her hands to her hips. “Out of all the guys you know who’d be happy to be your date, ya chose the worst possible one.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Querida asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Rodrigo isn’t _coming_ , that’s what it means. And I thought Bright Eyes here was oblivious,” she added, jerking her black-painted right thumb in my direction.

“Uh...I still don’t get it.”

“Rodrigo fucking JILTED you, Querida!” Leona snapped. Querida’s eyes widened in horror. “He wasn’t ever GOING to come! He just wanted you to get your hopes up and dash them all in an instant, so when he comes back to school on Monday he can laugh in your face.”

Querida trembled. “H-how do you know?”

“It’s basic common sense, blondie. Rodrigo _hates_ you. He’d do _anything_ if it meant knowing that it would make you cry.” She chuckled darkly. “And do recall that he’s part of _my_ crew now. He was gloating about your foolishness as soon as you said yes.”

“And you didn’t think to _tell us?_ ” Rachel asked, deciding to get involved now.

“Why the hell should I? In case you haven’t noticed it yet, Rachel, I don’t _like_ you chumps anymore.” Leona shrugged. “Why should I be concerned about any of this? I only told you now because Querida decided to get involved in something that wasn’t her concern?”

Querida whimpered. “I-I need a moment,” she said, on the brink of tears. She turned and ran out of the cafeteria.

“Nice _going_ , Leona,” Rachel snapped.

“Hey, _you_ weren’t going to tell her that Rodrigo was going to do this,” Leona replied nonchalantly. “I did you nitwits a favor.”

“We DID tell her that he was probably lying to her,” Rachel corrected, “she wouldn’t accept it. You of all people should know that Querida likes to see the good in all of us, and when her expectations are let down so quickly it’s hard for her. _Yes_ , she would’ve figured it out eventually, but if you hadn’t told her yourself, and in the tone you told her in, she would’ve been at peace with it.”

Leona considered this. “And what about Magnum?”

“ _I_ was going to come anyway, but I couldn’t find a date,” I explained, speaking for myself. “My immeasurable aloneamence is why I never like these dances, that and the music is usually terrible.”

“Diana did something, didn’t she?” Leona guessed.

“But,” I continued, “Rachel wanted me here for the expressedament purpose of _making sure Querida had a good time, Rodrigo or not_ . And you, _you_ have caused me to fail in that regard.” I began puffing up, making myself look bigger than her; and since she was only 5’4” to my 5’8”, that wasn’t very hard.

I continued. “You know what? I’m gonna say it. I _did_ tell Dr. Rockefeller about your behavior, as did four other people that I’m not gonna name, mostly because I really don’t know who else told him.” That was a lie, but she didn’t need to know that. “Whatever caused you to get this bad attitude, it’s concerning a lot of us and we want to make sure you’re okay.

“But after _this_ stunt you just pulled?” I chuckled darkly, shaking my head. “I’m not even sure I care what happens to you anymore.”

Doing my best to ignore the hurt, betrayed look in her eyes, I left to find Querida.

* * *

“Doug?” Querida asked when I found her in the parking lot, leaning on a railing.

“Hey Carrie. You okay?”

She sighed. “Rachel was right. Rodrigo never wanted to be my date to the dance. He lied so he could hurt my feelings.” She turned to look at me. “I should’ve listened.”

“Hey, you wanted things to be better between you and him. I can’t fault you for trying, I can’t fault anyone for doing that.”

“Guess Danielle and Leona are like him, I suppose. They don’t _want_ to change.”

“I wouldn’t say that. I think they’ve got their own issues, and if they’re going to make amends with me they’re going to have to contend with their own flaws first.”

“And _you_ don’t?”

I shrugged. “I already contend with them. Naivete, ineptitude, unawarement, the list goes on.”

“You wouldn’t be you if you Wonka’d your words,” Querida giggled. “It’s so cute.” She paused. “You know what? Fuck it.” Sensing what might be coming, I stopped time.

When she turned around again, the edges of her scleras were a blazing green. “Doug, from the day we first met in advisory back in ninth grade, I’ve been in love with you. You’re kind, smart, and even if you don’t know what’s bothering people, you always do your best to make them feel better.

“To be honest,” she chuckled sadly, “I wanted to ask _you_ to be my date. But I chickened out because I was afraid you’d turn me down. There are plenty of girls I think I know you have your eyes on, and I wasn’t sure I was one of them. So I decided if I couldn’t make things great with you, then I could certainly make things alright with someone else. But I fucked _that_ one up, didn’t I?”

“Querida?”

“Mm?”

“I _do_ like a lot of girls. I’m polyamorous,” I said, deciding to come out, the word still feeling foreign on my tongue. “And guess what?”

I pulled her close, and then I kissed her.

“MMPH!” she groaned, wrestling her tongue with mine, grabbing my shirt tightly.

“ _You_ happen to be one of them,” I finished, breaking the kiss and wiping the corners of my mouth.

“Really? Oh, Doug, that’s great!” she cheered. She paused. “Wait, how come the clouds aren’t moving? And you said you’re poly…”

I did a memory transfer. “Let’s just say I have a…little more practice with this than most people know…”

Querida blushed. “Oh. Oh, _wow_ , that’s really hot.” She sighed. “I’m kinda sad that I couldn’t have been your first, Doug. That would’ve really made it for me, y’know?”

“Yeah, me too. But Gwen was an excellent teacher.”

“Yeah, seeing her fuck your butt was _awesome_ ,” she purred. “I don’t think I’ve told you this before, but I have a _huge_ thing for butts.”

“Do you, now?”

“Hips don’t lie,” she shrugged. “And my _biggest_ fantasy?” she grinned, her eyes lighting up. “Rimjobs! I _so_ want to give a rimjob to a cute guy!” Her eyes widened.

“Uh-oh,” I said, immediately aware of what she was planning.

She tackled me to the ground. “Doug, _please_ let me eat your ass!”

“Okay, okay, but let me at least clean myself out before I do. I don’t want you dying from an infection.”

“It’ll take a lot more than bacteria to kill _me_ ,” she boasted.

“No, no it wouldn’t.” I disrobed and used my powers to clean myself out, then I did the same to her. “Just in case you want me to do it to you, too,” I explained.

“‘Just in case’?” she snorted. “Doug, I would _love_ getting rimmed by you! The things you can do with your tongue…” She trailed off, checking me out. “What a beautiful _pene_ you have there, babe.” A pause. “Hey, I never _have_ seen your feet before. Pretty cute, _cariño!_ ” she grinned. “It’s only fair I indulge _your_ fetish before indulging in _mine_ , y’know.”

“I guess,” I shrugged.

We sat on the ground. “Footsies!” she sang, planting her soles against mine. It felt great. We wiggled our toes against each other’s for a little bit before interlocking them, sighing in pleasure. “Now, I do recall you saying you like feet? Do you like... _licking_ them?”

“Very much,” I confirmed, taking her feet and proceeding to lick the pads of her toes. She had a bit of a soft taste to her, almost like a warm cheese quesadilla. “You taste great.”

She groaned, before returning the favor. “And so do _you, amorcito_.” We continued the mutual worship, but as time (didn’t) go on we slowly began grinding against each other, my dick reaching its full size and her pussy growing hotter and softer under its touch.

After what would’ve been ten minutes realtime, Querida noticed. She blushed at me and nodded. Sitting up, I wrapped my legs around her back, bent my cock down so it was facing outwards and not upwards, then pulled her into me. She let out a “WEEM!” when we made contact, I burrowing into her moist walls.

“What a most peculiar noise,” I quipped. Querida shut me up with a kiss and we continued to grind together. It felt like the world was watching, even though it really wasn’t, couldn’t, but was cheering us on with the force of a thousand voices.

As we continued, I played with her breasts, while she lightly scratched my back with her fingernails. I’d hate for her nails to get messed up this way, so I was thankful temporal cessation didn’t do much in the way of cosmetic damage.

“Carrie, I’m gonna cum,” I managed after maybe five realworld minutes.

“Me too,” she replied. “Ahhh…” And then we did, her vagina filling with semen. I pulled out, and she looked down at my length, before licking it to clean it off.

“Funny, I took you for a screamer,” I remarked.

“Doug, I have three siblings, one of which is a baby. Did you _really_ think I wouldn’t have the foresight to masturbate quietly?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, it doesn’t matter now, now does it?” I asked.

“I guess not. So...rimjob time?”

“Rimjob time.” I cleaned us out again just in case. “I gotta tell ya, these powers? _Super_ convenient.”

We got on our knees and she spread my buttocks. “And just in time, too,” Querida agreed, before shoving her tongue into my anus.

I sighed. Analingus wasn’t anywhere near the top of my Techniques To Try list, but it felt better than I thought it would. Helped that Lilah had kind of done the same thing in my first threesome.

Querida was _really_ into it, though, and I could tell how much she was enjoying herself. Eventually, she began stroking my length with her hands, while she continued to tongue and lap at my hole. Eventually, she released me, then brought her feet to my cock and jerked me off until I came onto her feet.

“I _was_ going to ask if you could give me a footjob, but seeing that you’ve already taken care of that, what next?” I asked.

“First, you’re going to watch me lick my own feet,” Querida grinned. She brought her left foot to her mouth and greedily licked all of my cum off it, then did the same with her other foot. “ _Fwah!_ I can really see why this turns you on, darling,” she purred.

“Now what?” I murmured, my erection back in full force.

“You’re gonna eat _my_ ass!” She got on all fours and crawled backwards, shoving and wiggling her butt in my face. “C’mon, it’s nice and squishy!”

“I can tell.” She giggled and I gulped, gingerly groping her buttocks. She _was_ squishy, as all girls are. Gulping nervously, I spread her cheeks, her pale tan asshole there for the world to see.

If it hadn’t been at night, the place where the sun don’t shine would be fully illuminated.

I gingerly ran my tongue across its height, and Querida shuddered. So _this_ is what turned her on the most, I thought. Deciding to get it over with, I continued licking, satisfied that any...unsavory tastes had been thoroughly incinerated by a few well-placed beams of raw universal power.

Querida was groaning and moaning and no doubt making all kinds of weird faces, and to my surprise she was actually taking a few selfies; she’d apparently worn shorts under her dress and that’s where her phone was.

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” she cooed. “I’m not going to show anyone these pics. But hey, you make funny faces, you have to record them."

“Well, just to be safe I’ll put a roadblock on your phone,” I replied, pointing at it and wrapping it in a strand of green light. “Now those pictures can only be seen by you, me, and anyone else in the harem.”

“‘Harem’ sounds kind of demeaning, to be honest.”

“You got a better word? ‘Polycule’ is kind of awkward to say all the time.”

She got on her back and pursed her lips. “Yeah, I get that. Anyway, there’s one thing we gotta do before I’m taxed.”

“I guess you want to suck me off?” I asked, using my powers to clean out our mouths. Just in case, you can never be too careful when it comes to STDs.

“Well, I really want _you_ to suck _me_ off, but yeah, your dick was pretty tasty,” she grinned.

“Lucky for you, sixty-nine happens to be a favorite number of mine.” Not as much as four, sixteen, sixty-four, or a hundred were.

She laughed and I stood over top of her, before her right foot pushed my head into her vagina and her left hand shoved my hips into her face. A little finagling, and I was penetrating her mouth. Or rather, she had my dick in her teeth and she was bobbing her head up and down it as best she could while lying on her back with someone who weighed about ten pounds heavier than she did.

It had occurred to me that Querida was quite dominant in terms of making love. While she wasn’t physically rough to the point of hurting me, and by no means a bully who liked seeing her partner get utterly humiliated, her actions were those of great physical force. She was the one who initiated most of our actions that night, a woman of initiative who acted out every idea she got.

And she was far more dominant than anyone I’d slept with thus far. Lilah, Alyssa, and Gwen were quite dominant when they had sex with me, but there was always a point where they would submit. Sarah, like myself, was more or less ambivalent, while Gina and Josie were submissive and were fine with getting pulled along for the ride.

I didn’t know what would make Querida submissive, but given that I was dating her in all but name now, I was going to find out someday.

And I couldn’t wait for when I did, because I liked finding new ways to make those I loved happy.

With a jolt and a shudder, she came a tiny little bit, while I came a lot more into her mouth. We extricated ourselves from each other and got dressed again.

“That was amazing!” Querida exclaimed, wiping a trace of jizz from the corner of her mouth. “You’ve learned quite a few things already, young grasshopper, but you have much to learn!”

“And I have another teacher to help with that, although I personally prefer butterflies,” I replied.

Querida giggled. “I identify with grasshoppers a lot, actually. I’m ready to jump onto the next thing at a moment’s notice. Plus, they’re tasty!” Even though she only spent the first two months of her life in her home country, she’d happily taken on her ancestral cultural blendification, lack of a weird thing about entomophagy included. “Oh, and Doug? Remember what Gina said yesterday?”

“Yeah?”

“She was right. Your first seven girlfriends couldn’t make it to the dance, but there was a good chance that your _eighth_ could.” She smiled. “And here I am!”

“And here you are indeed.”

* * *

Once time resumed, we went back inside to say our goodbyes. “Oh! Hey guys,” Rachel said. “Did you talk about...y’know, Querida’s feelings for Doug?”

“We did. We’ve...come to an agreement,” I said.

“ _Cum_ is right,” Querida whispered into my ear sultrily as soon as Rachel wasn’t paying attention.

“Well! That’s good to hear,” Rachel said. “Leona’s off sulking somewhere, you two did a number on her ego tonight. You going to stay longer?”

“I don’t think so,” Querida replied. “I’ve had my fun for tonight, and I’ve got church tomorrow anyway.” Under her breath she added “Faking it’s going to be a challenge now that I actually _know_ how the universe was created, and I don’t mean because I watched the Science Channel.”

“Well, it was nice seeing you guys,” Trent said, shaking her hand. “See you on Monday!”

“You too!” Querida replied. We left together. “Doug, thank you for a wonderful night.” She kissed me on the cheek, then left.

I sighed dreamily. “Best. Induction. _Evah_.” Seven down, fifty-six to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If DTL never existed, Querida would be Doug’s true love instead. But DTL exists, and she’s a very different person. (They’re both perverts, though, so when they do meet they’re really gonna hit it off.)
> 
> A dance has come and gone, and Querida has happily thrown her hat into the ring. Now what? Stay tuned to find out…
> 
> And please give me your lovely reviews! I’ll respond like so:
> 
> Person: Does Doug even need a harem?
> 
> Yes.


	9. Screwed by the Network

September 16, 2019 AD. 

Kikehuwet, Delaware. 

Doug Vision 

I arrived downstairs when I found _him_ grinning at the newspaper. “Take a look at _this_ ,” _he_ grinned, slapping the newspaper down on my spot. I sat down and looked over the front page of the Kikehuwet Gazette:

LOCAL REPORTER ACCUSED OF SEXUAL HARASSMENT 

Falthin Xayansa, 50, a reporter for Channel 103 News, was accused of sexual harassment yesterday Sunday September 15. The accusation was made by Cecily Broker, 42, at 8:04 PM. She made the accusation after Xayansa tweeted “Hey, Orlando’s Kitchen! When was the last time I went there?”, referring to an upcoming interview he would be conducting with Orlando’s proprietor, Alessandro Orlando III, 57. Broker replied with “3/16/96, 2PM, when you tried to kiss me when I didn’t want you to.” 

Xayansa has not yet replied to this tweet, but Broker continued by adding, “You called me a bitch when I said no and grabbed my hand. #FireFalthin”. #FireFalthin became a trending tag over the next hour. Orlando stated that if the accusation turns out to be true, he will decline the upcoming interview on September 17. 

“Eesh,” I winced.

“Isn’t it _great?_ ” _he_ said, cheerfully maniacal. “He’s going to Lose his job, I just Know It. Good thing, too; Asians are _terrible_ Reporters.”

“He’s Micronesian.”

“That’s Asian.”

“It’s _Oceanian!_ ”

“No, it’s Asian. Get your geography _Straight_ , Douglas; it’s a miracle your grades in Social Studies are as high as they are.” I growled to myself. “And don’t fucking Do That, it’s Weird!”

“Breakfast is ready!” Mom announced, interrupting us, putting down two plates, each with two pieces of buttered toast, on the dining room table. “I buttered it up because butter is love!”

“It really isn’t,” _he_ deadpanned. As soon as Mom turned around, _he_ grabbed both of my toasts and put them on _his_ plate.

“Hey!”

“That is your Punishment for being Incorrect. You know, I think you could stand to learn a Thing or two from This. The way you Act around Girls is Creepy, Douglas. It’s. Just. _Creepy!_ ” And _he_ proceeded to devour my toast, while Mom returned with my milk, eying the scene in confusion.

As much as I hated to admit it, _he_ was right that I could make people uncomfortable at times, as good as my intentions were. Thankfully, I’d learned a lot from the Dewiantow and DTL, and my girlfriends had diligently set boundaries that I wouldn’t cross until they were ready.

* * *

“Querida, you look so chuffed today!” Liz chirped during advisory. “Did summat good happen durin’ the dance? Like a bunny appearin’ in the middle o’ the dancefloor?”

“That WOULD be cute,” Querida giggled, “but no, it was all Doug!”

“Really?” Liz turned around and narrowed her beautiful hazel eyes at me. “But Dougie, most o’ the time you’re all by yer sen!” She grimaced. “Ohhhhhhhh, what’s the oth’r word?”

“Self.”

“Oh, reight, reight.”

“Well, Rachel was concerned that Rodrigo would blow her off, and not in the _good_ way,” Lilah explained, sidlering into our conversation. “So she asked Doug to keep an eye on Querida. He didn’t have a date, but hey, whenst the fuck hasn’t _someone_ thought about him like that?”

“Lilah, not at _this_ hour,” I grumbled.

“That’s not what you told me five minutes ago,” she grinned cheekily. A few minutes ago she’d sucked me off as a reward for giving Querida a good time. I hadn’t asked for a blowjob, but I wasn’t complaining.

“Was it fun?” Liz asked. It took me a bit to realize that she was talking about the dance. Liz didn’t tend to notice sexual stuff all that well, which considering my situation right now was a REALLY GOOD THING.

“Very! Well, until Leona showed up and told me how dumb I was for thinking that Rodrigo was actually gonna come.” Querida shrugged. “But hey, I came to terms with that. And he hasn’t come to visit our advisory to rub it in my face yet; maybe he got scared off.”

“Or mebee he got lost,” Liz mused. “You never know.”

As soon as she turned around, I stopped time. “Lilah, that was risky,” I said quickly. “We do _not_ need people getting suspicious about the exact nature of our relationship!”

“I know, dude, I know, but I joke about sex all the time,” Lilah shrugged. “No one can tell when I’m _not_ kidding about it.”

“Why _do_ you do that, anyway? Doesn’t it seem kind of...harassment-y?” Querida asked.

“Trolling, mostly,” Lilah replied nonchalantly. “Some people are too stuck-up for their own good and it’s fun to see them brought back to the level that the rest of us exist at. But considering what happened last night, maybe I _should_ cut back.”

“Perhaps.” Querida grinned. “Anyway, speaking of sex, did you actually?”

“Yep! Blew him nice and _good_ ,” Lilah replied, licking her lips lewdly.

“Oh, he tastes _amazing_ , doesn’t he?” Querida asked, smiling. “Mind if I… _¿comparto?_ ” Lilah nodded feverishly and Querida kissed her. They sighed against each other’s lips, pulling apart with a trail of spit hanging between them.

“You guys are adorable,” I said, rubbing the backs of their heads.

“We learned from the best,” Querida sighed.

* * *

A few minutes later, three people came into the room. In ninth and tenth grade we had peer leaders, presumably because the principal thought we were too stupid to figure out how to navigate highschool at that age. Most of the kids who became peer leaders were overly-cheerful preppies who couldn’t fathom the idea that the things they liked might not be liked by everyone in their classes. Luckily, _my_ advisory lucked out with three young women who were completely candid and didn’t shy away from sugarcoating the harsh reality of life.

Ashley Quillliam was the first to enter Room 222, a kindly girl who was a major foodie, not that you could tell from her skinny build. She stood at 5’11” and had short, dirty blonde hair and teal eyes. She wore a cornflower blue t-shirt, black shorts, and white size 8 sneakers with light gray socks. Her fingernails were a nude peach color.

Next came Victoria Yevtushenko, a gruff, cynical woman and one of the few people in Grant’s steadily declining Dance Club. She stood at 5’7” and wore her blonde hair in a bun with an orange ribbon. Her eyes were yellowish-green and two broad, long scars stretched over her left eye, which was rumored to have come from a runaway circus bear that attacked her when she was eight. She wore a bright red t-shirt, blue jeans, and black size 9 sneakers with white accents and black socks. Her fingernails were raspberry red.

Finally was Margarita Garcia, the one who was by far the most passionate of the three about social injustices and righting those wrongs. She stood at 5’6” and had dark gray hair with eyes of a similar color. She wore a light brown summer dress with darker, diagonal stripes, and black-strapped gladiator sandals. Her fingernails were a nude brown color, while her toenails were dull green. An apple green bracelet graced her left wrist.

It was Margarita, of course, who spoke up first. “Good morning, everyone!” she said cheerfully.

“I do not see what is so _good_ about it,” Victoria remarked, her Ukrainian accent underscoring her annoyance.

“Oh, hush. I know it’s rough, but that doesn’t mean we have to be all doom-and-gloom about it.”

“It is a serious issue, so we should be serious about it.”

“Guys?” Ashley asked, stopping them before they could bicker any further.

“Oh! Right.” Margarita turned to face us and cleared her throat. “So, as you might’ve heard, yesterday Mr. Xayansa was accused of sexual harassment. We want you to know that this is _not_ an invitation to jump on the Fire Falthin bandwagon.”

“There’s still a lot about the incident that we don’t know, so until we get all of our data we shouldn’t pass judgement on either party,” Ashley said next. “Could Xayansa have done it? Maybe. But maybe Broker misremembered who her date was. Or maybe she just straight-up lied about it.”

“Why would anyone _lie_ about something like that?” asked Ichiro, one of the Triad Acolytes.

“Attention,” Suyin snarked.

“Exactly,” Victoria agreed. “There are many who will take advantage of a movement for social change to get famous by dragging another person...what is the metaphor?”

“Under the bus?” Alyssa supplied.

“Ah, yes, thank you. There are of course genuine instances of sexual harassment, yes, but every so often a false accusation is made.”

“And because everybody’s all riled up, they’re too focused on getting justice and not focused enough on asking if that accusation makes any sense,” Margarita added. “So going forward, we ask of you to _think_ and get all your data before jumping to conclusions. Not just about this issue, but about _anything_ , frankly.”

* * *

“This is crazy,” I remarked to Zoe at the beginning of Social Studies. Zoe was the leader of Squad Beta, a powerful woman who was not to be trifled with. She stood at 5’5” with her gingerbread-brown afro adding another foot to her height, her eyes dark with a slight reddish-brown tint. She wore a black t-shirt with thin white and electric blue stripes, dark blue jorts with a brown belt, and white Adidas. Her fingernails were white, her lips dark brown.

“I know,” Zoe sighed. “Molly’s been so upset all morning. She’s wanted to be a reporter all her life, but to see her dad, her idol, the very man who inspired her in the first place...the prospect that he might’ve done something bad and will lose his career for it crushed her like a grape.”

“Well, we don’t _know_ that he did anything. No one should jump to conclusions without any data to hold them back to their originimal ledge,” I replied. “That’s why I don’t like #metoo.”

Zoe glared at me. “You don’t think we need to enlighten the world on how women get sexually assaulted by people in positions of power?”

“What? No! See, _that’s_ what I’m talking about. _Think_ before you say stuff like that.”

She paused, then nodded in understaind. “Oh. Ohhhh. I see. Sorry, I got caught in the moment.”

“It’s definitely _necessary_ , but it could certainly be _handled_ better,” I went on. “Misandry doesn’t solve misogyny, it just makes the side making the argument look bad.”

“I will admit, not enough women are being represented by #metoo,” Zoe said. “It’s almost always rich white women who get all the attention and the satisfaction of their abusers getting justice, never women who are poor or of color. Or guys, there are guys who get raped and harassed too but people just keep ignoring them.”

“Speaking of people, Eva doesn’t look too happy,” I remarked as the girl in question stomped into the room. She was wearing a dark red t-shirt, black shorts, and was of course barefoot.

“I can’t _believe_ Tessa,” Eva growled as she sat down angrily.

“Why, what’d she do this time?” Courtney, a skinny African-American girl and the head cheerleader, asked.

“I TOLD her that her notes for that physics quiz last week were no good, but she never listened!” Eva snapped. “Now all of us have low grades and it’s gonna take a long time for them to go back up!”

“Uh...context, please?” Zoe asked. “I’m not taking physics this year.”

“Me either,” Courtney agreed. “Physics is a _next_ -year kind of thing.”

“Every Friday Physics Mechanics has a one-question quiz,” I interjected. “It’s based on one of the questions we go over in class.”

“And Tessa never fucking bothers to check her fucking notes, so she _completely_ messed up her section on vectors and messed _us_ up when we studied,” Eva finished angrily. “She refuses to get out of her bad habit, Maddie doesn’t know how to fix it, Abby won’t even get near those two anymore, and I don’t know what to do about any of it...suffice to say, we’re _all_ kind of pissed.”

Eventually, class started, and I had another mission to go on. But that could wait until I helped Molly feel better. After all, her dad’s employment was on the line here.

* * *

I found Molly in the newspaper’s meeting room, sighing sadly. “You okay?” I asked.

“Doug, thank _goodness_ you’re here,” she said, turning to face me. “You heard about my dad, right?”

“After the peer leaders made their rounds this morning, who hasn’t?”

She sighed again. “I _know_ my dad. He wouldn’t do that to _anyone_. And if he had, my mom would’ve been the first person to find out about it. I just...why are people so willing to drag celebrities under the bus for the slightest offense?”

“I have a few ideas, but you’re not gonna like ‘em,” I grumbled, knowing full well that the Malevolence accounted for at least half of those people. “But it’s nothing we can’t figure out.”

Molly suddenly bolted upright. “You mean you’re going to help me clear my dad’s name?! Or at the very least, get the whole story?!”

“Why wouldn’t I? We ARE journalists, y’know. Diggering up secrets is what we do best.”

“Oh thankyouthankyouthankyouTHANKYOU!” she cried, leaping out of her chair and hugging me. She suddenly broke contact. “Oh! Sorry. I should’ve...asked.”

“Perhaps,” I replied, sitting her down on my lap and discretely stopping time. “Molly, can I ask you something?”

“Sure!”

“Do you...like me?”

“Well, _yeah!_ You’re a good guy.” She paused, and her eyes widened, the edges of her scleras briefly flickering green. “Oh! Y-you meant like _that!_ ” Her cheeks got darker and she nearly fell out of my lap. “W-well...um…”

“I guess that’s a yes?” She nodded meekly. “Huh. Well, to tell you the truth, Molly, I kinda like you too.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, but a funny thing happened last month, and, well, you’re not alone.” I performed a memory transfer to her. “See?”

She blinked, and her blush deepened. “Oh. Oh, _wow_ , so _that’s_ what it looks like.” She shook her head and smiled. “Well, I have to say I’m quite proud of you. No matter how many times you make love, and I see you’ve done it twenty-five times already, you always ask your partner what they want to do with you.”

“Is that a good thing?”

She responded by kissing me. Her lips tasted like oranges and watermelon and possibly orange watermelons too. “Very.”

“Y’know, we don’t have to _have_ sex right _now_.”

“But your powers feed on love, right? So if we make love right now, then your powers will get stronger and we could use one of them to prove my dad’s been wronged.”

I nodded; it was a sound argument. And then it hit me, and I smacked my hands together. “And I know just the one, too: Memetic Mutagen. It should allow me to look into the memories of everybody involved and get _them_ to remember it too. It’s our best bet on getting the truth out. Now, can we change the subject to something more...intimate?”

“Sure,” she giggled. “Guess foreplay’s up first. What did you wanna do first?”

“Uh…” I stared down at her Arizona Birkenstocks-clad feet, her toenails painted a dark red color.

“Oh! Sure.” She removed herself from my lap and sat on the edge of the table, then kicked off her shoes and placed her feet in my hands. “Ready?”

“Ready,” I affirmed, before raising her feet to my face. She wiggled her toes, then I planted my face into her soles and began to worship her feet. Her soles had a different flavor from her face, one that I couldn’t quite place. Butterscotch?

What the nonexistent hell even _is_ butterscotch, anyway?

“Ohh, _that’s_ nice,” Molly sighed, flexing her toes a little.

“Would you like me to lick your boobs as well?” I asked, removing my mouth from her right fourth and fifth toes. Molly’s eyes lit up and she nodded, hastily removing her white t-shirt and modest brown bra. Her breasts were small and perky. A small patch of paler skin adorned the space right beneath her left breast.

I went to work, rising up and drawing her close, planting my face on her chest and licking and suckling all over her breasts. She sighed happily, absently stroking my hair as I worked.

“Okay, I think I’m ready,” she said after about nine minutes realtime. I pulled away from her and watched as she removed her dark gray shorts and bright blue panties (an odd combination if I ever saw one). Tossing them to the side, she turned around and got on her belly, shimmying backwards until her legs were dangling off the edge of the table. “Go for it!”

I disrobed myself and lined up with her vagina, then slowly but surely pushed my way in. She groaned with pleasure, her legs bending so they could hook with each other and keep me from pulling too far out.

“Keep...fucking...me,” she panted. “You need that new power of yours to get bigger and better _soon_.”

“Don’t rush perfection, darling, it’ll come out sloppy and misshapen.”

“And isn’t sloppy and misshapen perfection in of itself?” she replied, raising an eyebrow.

I kissed her. “Of course it is.”

We went at it for quite some time. It had to have been at least seventeen minutes realtime. But eventually I gave in and came. As I did, something in my mind’s eye glowed silver, and when I pulled out a panel, light gray mottled with gray and black, appeared before me.

“I’ve gotten an update, just like we expected,” I said proudly.

“Goodie!” Molly exclaimed, hugging me before letting me reclothe the two of us. “That’ll help a _lot_.” I restarted time.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and Gwen and Gina made their way inside. Gwen was sporting a new pedicure, her big toes painted pale pink and the other eight a dark, shiny red, and Gina was wearing a turquoise shirt that I didn’t recognize; probably new. “Hey, uh, Molly?” Gina asked, the edges of her eyes green and her cheeks as red as her lipstick. “Can we, uh...do you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Need to borrow our boyfriend?” Molly asked casually.

“Yeah...not me and Gina at the same time, though, but separately,” Gwen replied, her eyes also a little green around the edges.

I sighed. “I need to rest up first, babes. Guys can’t have consecutive orgasms like girls can.”

“Really?” Gina asked. “Huh. I didn’t know that.”

Gwen stopped time. “Well, in that case let’s have _our_ fun time too!” She grabbed Gina’s hand and led her away, much to her surprise.

I chuckled at the sight. _I wish_ I _could get a cute girl to whisk me away like that,_ I heard DTL sigh.

“You will, darling, all in due time. Right now, I need to sleep.” So I did.

* * *

“Alright everyone, let’s review what we’re going to do,” Mohan, a member of the artsy group known as The Club and the editor-in-chief, said after the school day had ended. “First, we’re going to Channel 103’s hq to interview Mr. Xayansa and get his side of the story. Then, based on what he says, we’ll investigate whatever other places he mentioned next.”

“Too _vague_ , man!” Hannah, who as you know by now was a reporter and writer much like myself and Molly, complained. “If we’re gonna get the big scoop, we gotta know _where_ to look for it! You call _that_ half-finished piece of crap a plan? Don’t you know that a handful of crap is better than a handful of fart?”

“Wow, is that one of those weird Thai metaphors your parents told you about?” Prairie, the sports columnist, asked.

“It is! Because it perfectly describes _this_ idiot,” Hannah growled.

“I’m sorry, but it’s the best I can do,” Mohan shrugged.

Hannah scowled. “ _Seriously?_ ” she asked the rest of us. “Who let _this_ guy become the head of the newspaper?”

“Well, do _you_ have an idea, Hannah?” I asked. I also did work as the copy editor, because that was one of the things I was good at.

She smiled. “As a matter of fact, I _do!_ ” She cleared her throat. “The incident supposedly happened at Orlando’s Kitchen, right? So why not go _there_ next? Maybe one of the Orlandos was there, or at the very least has a record of reservations ‘n shit.”

“That’s a pretty good plan there, Hannah,” Cooper, a member of the Triad Acolytes and an op-ed writer, remarked. “Is interviewing Mr. Orlando next a good idea?”

“Well, Orlando’s Kitchen and Channel 103 News’ buildings ARE pretty close to each other,” Molly remarked. “I’m frankly surprised Dad doesn’t go there for lunch.”

“Because you need to have reservations beforehand,” Prairie explained. “And they’re hella expensive, too.”

“It would explain why Mr. Xayansa hasn’t been there in a while,” Ernie, a member of Squad Delta and the news editor, remarked.

“Yeah, it would!” Johnny, who worked on the features page, exclaimed. “Good job, everyone. Now let’s get crackin'! TO THE BUS!”

* * *

Molly Vision 

I sat with Doug on the bus ride to 103 News. “You okay?” he asked me, noticing how I was staring out the window sadly and wistfully.

“I’m still...reeling from all of this,” I admitted. “To think that someone is out there, lying about something that happened just to ruin another person’s career...what could propel them to do such a horrible thing?” Lowering my voice, I whispered, “Besides the obvious, I mean. Say, when did you purify me?”

“Last week, I think,” Doug whispered back. Out loud he said “It might not be a _total_ lie. Maybe this Broker lady _was_ sexually harassed on a date at Orlando’s, but can’t remember who it was. Maybe it never happened, and she made it all up. Maybe your dad _did_ do it. Maybe Broker was harassed but decided to blame your dad.” He shrugged. “There’s a long list of possibilities, and we won’t know which one is the _most_ possibletic until we ask around.”

“Well, I don’t think my dad would’ve been cheating on my mom, they got married in 1994 and have been pretty faithful,” I stated.

“Good! You’re already accounting for possibilities.”

“Speaking of possibilities, Doug, isn’t that your dad?” Cooper asked.

We turned around to look out the back window. There, barrelling down the street, almost tailgating us, was a dark red first generation Chevrolet Traverse, a fat man with dirty blonde hair and a furious expression on his face occupying the driver’s seat (and then some).

Then we heard an audible _thwack!_ Worried someone was hurt, we all turned to see Doug’s face buried in the back of the chair in front of him.

“Oh my nonexistent god…” Doug groaned. “He actually _did it_ …”

* * *

Eventually, we arrived at 6324 Yucca, the building where Channel 103 was filmed & published. I’d been there enough times to know every square inch of that building like the back of my hand. It was a low, wide building, a pale grayish-yellow color with white trim.

We got off the bus, and then, struggling to get out of the car, and then limping his way over, was the thing who dared to call himself Doug’s father. Sheesh. If _he_ was what I’d have as a father-in-law, keeping the truth secret was looking a lot easier than I thought it’d be.

“Yo, what’s happening? Why’s _he_ here?” Johnny asked impertinently.

“Don’t _you_ let your parents know what you’re doing?” Hannah asked.

“Not if it’s school-related. That’s what the email client’s for.”

“I’m Not Amused by your lack of Foresight, Johnny,” Mr. Magnum declared. “If that even _is_ your real name.” He harrumphed while Johnny made a disgusted face; I didn’t blame him, that comment was really insensitive. “I’m here to Pick Up my Son. Doug, we’re going home.”

“Are you _still_ on this?!” Doug groaned.

Mr. Magnum glared at him. “Fuck You.” We gasped at how easily he said that to his own son. Then he eyed us with contempt, and began thumping in front of us with his right side turned to us, like a drill sergeant made entirely of pillows. “My Son believes that Mr. Xayansa is Innocent of his Crime, purely because he Believes in Fairytales. _I_ Know Better than that, because Ms. Broker gave such a _detailed_ Description of hwat happened. And how else would she be able to Give such a detailed Description if it hhhhadn’t hhhhappened?”

“Okay, we’ve got _your_ side of the argument,” Mohan nodded. “What about you, Doug? What do _you_ think?”

Doug sighed. “I refuse to hold an opinion of Falthin Xayansa’s guilt until he has been proven to be guilty. There’s just so much about that incident that we don’t know. Like _his_ side of the story, for a start. Or if there were any witnesses who might offer something completely different from the main parties involved. And doesn’t it seem _weird_ that Broker remembered that _exact_ date off the top of her head? Even _I’m_ vague about a lot of important dates beyond the month or even the season when it occurred, and _I_ remember a _lot_.”

“Yeah, the date _did_ seem oddly specific,” Prairie admitted. “And why would she wait until today to disclose it?”

“Female oppression?” Cooper guessed.

“In 1996?” Prairie shot back. “If it happened way back then, why didn’t anyone find out about it until 2019? Surely she would’ve at least told her friends, or maybe her parents, and we didn’t see _them_ say anything.”

Mr. Magnum let out a short, terse sigh, clearly disappointed in us. “I See that I’m not going to get Anywhere with you Ignorant children. You’ve all been Deluded with a Bunch of Lies that were Spread by the Internet.”

“Yo, excuse me, sir.” Up came a security guard. “Are you of any relation to these children?”

Mr. Magnum’s mood did a complete one-eighty. “My Son is with this Group, and I just wanted to Wish him Good Luck,” he said cheerfully. So _that’s_ why the teachers never believed Doug when he said his father was evil.

“Ah, I see,” the guard smiled. “Just make sure not to get close, you need a pass to get in.” He turned around and resumed his post.

Mr. Magnum looked crestfallen at that, and wordlessly returned to his car, struggled inside, and drove away.

“Phew!” I sighed. “We’re lucky he’s not smart enough to get a pass!”

* * *

Doug Vision 

Molly turned to look at me. “But honestly...what was _that_ about? Why is your dad so convinced that mine’s guilty?”

I sighed. “ _He_ believes that Falthin is automatically guilty just because of his race. _He_ has this weird _thing_ about people of Asian descent; I think _he_ watched too many racist cartoons when _he_ was a kid.”

“But...my dad’s Micronesian,” Molly said, confused and more than a little irkitated.

“ _He_ refuses to believe that such a people exists, and then _he_ stole my food because I dared to disobey _him_.”

She winced. “I hope I _never_ have to find out what having an abusive parent is like. And I hope that _someone_ does _something_ about _yours_.”

“Right now, we’ve gotta make sure Molly’s dad _doesn’t_ turn into an abusive parent,” Johnny decided. “And we gotta do that by making sure we get the whole story.”

“And I should tell Lilah, Querida, and Liz to make sure that you’ve actually eaten in the mornings,” Hannah remarked. “Querida seemed a whole lot happier thanks to you, Doug.”

I smiled. “Thanks.” As we continued our journey to Falthin’s office, I had some thoughts. “Hannah? Where were _you_ on Saturday?”

“The news never sleeps.” She yawned. “Unfortunately, _people_ have to.” Knowing Emily, missing the dance probably wasn’t a very big deal for her.

I yawned too, then wiped my eyes. “And Johnny...why’d you choose your name?”

“Nicknames, man,” Johnny declared proudly. “You can be John, Johnny, Jack, Joe, Jax, JJ, Jimmy, James, Yanni, the list goes _on!_ There aren’t many names that get that amount of mileage, Edward, Theodore, and Elizabeth are the only ones I can think of that have more.” He grimaced. “That, and Juanita was a _stupid_ -ass name, and I’m glad my parents let me change it.”

“Say, Doug?” Cooper asked. “He doesn’t... _know_ that Johnny’s trans, right?”

“Nope, and he’s not going to,” I replied. “I didn’t meet him until I came to Grant, remember?”

“Oh, right,” Cooper nodded.

“Good,” Johnny sighed in relief.

* * *

“Hey there, kids,” Falthin sighed on seeing us. He was a middle-aged man of fifty years old, with black hair and eyes and caramel-brown skin. “Are you here to clear my name?”

“That’s the gist of it,” Hannah nodded. “So, Mr. Xayansa, where were you on March 16th, 1996?”

His brow furrowed. “Oh, I wish I _knew_. That was so long ago I don’t remember it very well. I definitely remember covering Clinton’s campaign that year, but not that date in particular.”

“Well now, it’s a good thing you have _me_ , Ace Reporter Hannah Sobsuin, on the case!” Hannah boasted cockily.

“Oh god,” Molly sighed, facepalming.

“Who told you about Orlando’s Kitchen first? What do they serve, and what did you get? Have you been there with your wife? Have you been there WITHOUT your wife? How did–”

I decided now would be a good point to put my plan into action. I stopped time, then pulled out Falthin’s memories. “Control-f,” I said, and a little tab materialized in front of me. I thought about the date, 3/16/1996, and the coil of memory film moved with a _vvvvvv_ , a great length of marbled black-and-white tumbling out of his headspace, until it stopped at a particular bend.

“Now how to make him remember it…” I muttered.

_Find the front end of the strip, that’ll be today. Lie the past loop on top of it,_ DTL explained. Made sense, she had that power herself, although she’d rarely ever used it (which was why she didn’t tell me to use it during Josie’s...incident, she couldn’t remember it, aside from the obvious fact that I just plain didn’t _have_ that power at the time until _after_ I slept with Josie).

“Thanks, babe.”

_You’re welcome!_

I did as she said and searched for today’s date, 9/16/2019, finding the free end of the strip. Then I carefully laid the 1996 loop on top of it; they touched, some of the blackness rubbing off onto the front end. Then I closed it all back up, and time resumed.

“–you get your job in the first place, anyway?” Hannah finished up.

“How is that last question relevant to this particular conversation?” Mohan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, do I _look_ like I know when his career started?” Hannah reminded him.

“No, you look like a nutcase.” Hannah retaliated by flipping him off.

Falthin sighed. “That’s a lot of questions you asked, Ms. Sobsuin…” He gasped. “But I think it may have done the trick! I remember what I was doing on that day!”

“Yes!” Hannah crowed triumphantly.

“She’s going to gloat about this all week,” Cooper sighed.

“Hey, she _earned_ it,” Molly replied, winking in my direction. “So what happened, Dad?”

“March 16, 1996 was a Saturday. Back in those days I worked on Saturdays and had Sundays and Mondays off, same as I do now. I _couldn’t_ have gone to Orlando’s Kitchen at 2 PM – I was at work until five! And I can _prove_ it, too!”

“With what?” Johnny asked. “Some cool archive or something?”

“Even better! YouTube!” Falthin shook his computer awake, then logged on and brought up Chrome. He went to YouTube, then typed “Channel 103 Mugabe Reelection” in the search bar, bringing up a video 5:16 long. He clicked on it.

A younger, spryer-looking Falthin addressed us. “In world news today, Zimbabwe is holding a presidential election, with Robert Mugabe vs. Abel Muzorewa. However, Mugabe is expected to win the election and continue ruling over Zimbabwe, and I’d like to talk about the implications of his reelection for Zimbabwe, and for the world.”

“So you’re innocent, then?” Prairie asked.

“Not so fast,” I said. “We don’t know everything yet. Maybe Ms. Broker remembered the date wrong. While unlikely given that she gave a specific date, so she most likely lied. But we still need to investigate, just in case.”

“Spoken like a true journalist,” Falthin said humbly. “You’d make a great reporter, Doug.”

“Nah, not for me. Too much writing in too little time.” I looked at Molly. “Besides, your daughter’s the one who wants it more, and I don’t want to stand in her way.”

“How gracious of you,” Molly quipped.

“Oh my god, just _fuck_ already!” Cooper groaned, earning us all laughs. Molly and I laughed a little harder than the others did, though, because…

Well, I don’t think I need to explain the joke.

…

Okay, _fine_ , Molly and I laughed harder than the others because we’d _actually_ fucked that afternoon. _Happy?_

“So what now?” Mohan asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Hannah scoffed. “Now that we’ve got _one_ party’s story, it’s time to get the other’s.”

“But...didn’t we already _get_ Broker’s story?” he asked, confused.

“I don’t think Hannah was talking about the Twitter post she sent out last night,” Molly replied. “I think she meant the _real_ story way back in 1996.”

“But how are we going to find _that?_ ”

“Orlando’s Kitchen works on reservation, remember? They’d have to keep a record of who reserved a table every day since the place opened.”

“I think I know what’s goin’ on,” Johnny smirked. “If Broker _was_ lying, then Orlando’s archives will know what _really_ happened on that day. Maybe her date was a different guy, or maybe she never went to Orlando’s at all. Either way, those records are our best bet for provin’ Mr. Xayansa’s innocence.”

“So what are we waiting for?!” Hannah crowed. “To Orlando’s!”

* * *

It wasn’t a very long walk. We left 6324 Yucca and walked over to 6328 Yucca, passing 6326 Yucca (which was a small print shop) in the process.

6328 Yucca, better known as Orlando’s Kitchen. Founded in 1955 by Alessandro Orlando, an Italian immigrant who fled to the US during WW2, for the expressed purpose of joining the many ethnic groups of Kikehuwet together via their shared love of good food. It was a proud part of South Kikehuwet’s history and was passed down from father to son, with Orlando the third taking ownership in 2005 after his father retired. Orlando IV was next in line for the job and was fine with taking it on, although he was still in culinary school at the moment.

“I can’t believe you’ve never been here, Doug!” Cooper exclaimed. “These guys are awesome!”

“Yeah, their mac-and-cheese is baller, or so I’ve heard,” Hannah added.

“Or so you’ve heard?” Mohan asked, confused.

“I’m Asian, dude. Lactose intolerance runs wild and free in my people. I eat a tiny block of cheese and you can kiss your toilets goodbye.”

“I thought women were supposed to be _classy!_ ” Cooper gagged.

“Shows how much _you_ know,” Prairie scoffed. “Nothing classy about Katie.”

* * *

_Elsewhere, Katie’s head suddenly rose. “Kyla?”_

_“Yeah?” Kyla asked._

_“Do me a solid and keep me from kicking Prairie’s butt tomorrow, will ya?”_

_“Why would you even_ want _to kick her butt?” Kyla asked._

_“Call me crazy, but I think I’ve been slighted.” Kyla didn’t know what to say to that._

* * *

I sighed. “I wish I could verify that myself.”

“What’s stopping you?” Johnny asked. “Aside from the whole reservations thing, that is.”

“I’m...actually not allowed to eat mac-and-cheese anymore. Haven’t been for the last three years.” I sighed again, sadly, trying to remember the taste of the salty, cheesy goodness.

“What? Why not?”

“I bet your _father_ has something to do with it,” Molly grimaced.

“As he almost always does. What did that asshole _do_ , my guy?” Hannah added, also scowling.

I sighed. “ _He_ doesn’t think that macaroni, lasagna, ravioli, ziti, or spaghetti are types of pasta.”

Everyone stopped walking and stared at me. _“Dude,”_ Johnny said finally. “I knew your pops was stupid, but _that_ is a new low.”

“Why would he think _that?_ ” Molly asked. We stopped outside the building, a small brick thing with a black sign. ORLANDO’S KITCHEN was written on it in gold paint, little stems of oregano ringed on the edges.

“It’s one of those stupid things from the fifties that he _insists_ on carrying over to _this_ decade. No one ever bothers to call most pasta types by their names, they just call them ‘pasta’, or ‘noodles’, or ‘ziti’ if they’re particularly careless. The exception is made with the five I mentioned above, because those all got made into particular meals that everyone in the fifties could name by heart.”

“So...he concluded that because they’re usually not lumped in with other types of pasta, they’re... _not_ pasta?” Hannah asked in disbelief.

“Yep.” I frowned. “Strangest logic evah. And when I learned this, I tried to argue the point, but…”

* * *

_February 23, 2016. 7:45 PM._

“What?” _Bond asked, staring incredulously at his son during dinner._

_“I said that macaroni is a type of pasta,” Doug replied innocently._

_“No it Isn’t,” Bond replied matter-of-factly. “Macaroni is not a Kind of pasta, and neither are Lasagna, Spaghetti, Ravioli, or Ziti.”_

_“Uh...they are,” Doug said again, now annoyed. Doug knew better than to provoke the beast that was Bond Magnum, but puberty was clouding his judgement._

_“Doug, please,” Nya said swiftly, knowing better and trying to curb her son, nervously swallowing._

_“No they Aren’t!” Bond snapped, pounding the table with every word he spoke. “People talk about Spaghetti and Meatballs! Baked Ziti! Lasagna! Ravioli! Macaroni And Cheese! You do NOT hear about Bowties and Meatballs, or Baked Penne! Therefore,” he concluded smugly, “They are Different Types of Food.”_

_“Uh...then why can they all be found in the pasta aisle?”_

_That was enough for the old man’s legendarily short temper. Bond snatched the bowl where Doug’s macaroni lay untouched, then dumped it onto his own plate, the yellow finery being forever tainted by Bond’s chicken pot pie and cottage cheese. “From Now On,” Bond snarled, “You will NEVER eat Macaroni Again, because you Need to be Punished for your Bad Attitude!” He then brought the bottom of the bowl against Doug’s face, the ceramic slamming into the boy’s left temple with a sickening_ THWACK! _“NOW GO TO YOUR ROOM!”_

_Doug scrambled out of his seat, retrieved Blorb from the couch, and raced upstairs, crying in pain and sadness. As he rounded the corner, he watched his horrified mother watch as Bond began eating his ill-gotten macaroni, resuming his routine as though nothing had happened at all._

* * *

“So THAT’S why you came to school with a bruise on your brow the next day,” Cooper remarked. “I thought you just hit your head on a banister or something.”

“Way to be _tactful_ , Coop,” Hannah snarked, rolling her eyes in disgust.

Molly looked sad. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Doug, I...remember how you found me at lunch? All despondent?”

“Does that mean you were sad?”

“Yeah. Because my dad? He’s my idol. And the thought that he might’ve done something bad, it...it just made me so upset. I always thought my family could do no wrong…

“And now I have to rethink that. Because what if my dad _did_ do it? And then there’s you, born in a broken home to a broken woman and the man who broke her…”

“Family is what you make of it,” I replied. “And family – _real_ family – isn’t afraid to call each other out on their bullshit, but it sticks together regardless because their strengths outweigh their flaws.”

“So...your dad’s not family?” Prairie asked.

“ _He_ hasn’t ever been,” I said darkly.

* * *

We entered Orlando’s, where the proprietor himself, a pale-skinned man with light reddish-brown hair, greeted us. Or, rather, questioned our existence. “A bunch of schoolchildren? Haven’t seen one of _those_ in a while. Where’s your chaperone?” Alessandro Orlando III asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“We’re responsible teenagers, we can handle ourselves just fine, sir,” Mohan replied.

“Speak for yourself,” Johnny smirked.

“Oh! Hey guys!” Querida bustled up, wearing her work uniform, which consisted of a purplish-red t-shirt and black shorts underneath a similarly-black apron, and black dress shoes.

“Hey Carrie,” I said, waving a little at her. She giggled and waved back.

“You know this lot?” Mr. Orlando asked.

“Sure do! These are my highschool’s newspaper people. I think they’re here on official news business. Investigating a scandal or something?”

“Actually, yes!” Hannah grinned. “We’ve had a BIG breakthrough on the Xayansa accusation.”

_That_ got Mr. Orlando’s attention. “Really?”

“Yep! Turns out Falthin _couldn’t’ve_ gone on that supposed date with Ms. Broker: he was at work at the date and time that she said it occurred! AND we have videographic evidence of it, too!”

“Interesting,” Mr. Orlando mused. “So why are you here _now?_ ”

“We just need a teensy-weensy trip into your archives so we can know for sure _what_ Ms. Broker was doing that day.”

Thinking fast, I stopped time, purified Mr. Orlando of the strawberry-sized lump in his soul, and then I rifled through his memories. I found the correct one by looking for “1996 Archive” and then swabbing that onto his most recent memories.

When time resumed, Mr. Orlando nodded. “I see. In fact, I think I know exactly where to look. Sanchez, can you and the gang handle the store while I take these students out back?”

“Sure thing, boss!” Querida saluted. “I’m gonna make sure everyone gets everything they need!”

“Like Table Seven’s order?” called one of the cooks from inside the kitchen itself.

“Right! Molly, Doug, can you stay out here? I’d like to talk with you, if that’s okay.” Querida scuttled away while the rest of the newspaper followed Mr. Orlando to the back of the building.

I gulped. “What could Carrie want with me?”

“Probably you-know-what, you _did_ make it impossible for us to talk about it in any language that’s not a euphemism,” Molly replied.

“Oh...so I’m not in trouble?”

Suddenly, the front door slammed open. “No, but I have the distinct feeling that we just got into it,” Molly gulped.

Standing at the front door and breathing heavily was a blonde woman with steel gray eyes. She was dressed in a faded olive green blouse, a black skirt barely clinging to her fat waist with a pathetically thin belt severely straining under her weight, and ugly black stilettos. Her puce lips twisted into a scowl as she spoke. **_“Where is Orlando?!”_ ** she growled, her voice grating.

“What d’you want, lady?” asked one of the patrons. “I’m tryna’ eat here.”

The woman slammed her hands on the in front of him, frightening his head back into his shirtles. “I am CECILY BROKER, and I want to make sure that Orlando doesn’t do that interview he plans to do tonight!”

“Really?” asked a young woman. “Heck yeah! Fire Falthin! Who wouldn’t want to see that fucker go down?”

“Cancel that bitch!” added another one. Damned college students.

“Uh...how about the one who needs the income?” Molly asked timidly. Everyone turned around to look at her.

The silence was only broken by Querida trotting in and setting a plate full of fettuccine alfredo and chicken parmesan at Table Seven. “Here you go!” she chirped, before noticing the commotion. “Oh! What’s going on over here?”

“ _I’m_ gonna make history by taking down Falthin Xayansa for sexually harassing me,” Broker replied smugly. “And _this_ brat thinks she can stop me.”

“And why do you think that, Molly?” Querida asked, turning to face the darker-skinned girl.

“Because I am a journalist, first and foremost. I report the news and make sure that people get their stories _straight_ . I search for empirical information that cannot be easily disproven, and I back up my claims with evidence,” Molly replied, holding her head up high. “And I have uncovered a fair amount of evidence against _your_ claim, Ms. Broker. The last piece of which I should be receiving right about…”

Hannah bolted out of the back of the building. “WE GOT IT!” she crowed, waving a black, leather-boundeded book in her hands.

“Now.”

Hannah flipped open the book. “This is the record book for all reservations made in 1996, back before the Orlandos switched to digital records. Cecily Broker made a reservation for herself and a one Thaddeus Gorelick for March 16, 1996 at 2:00 PM EST! Falthin Xayansa, on the other hand, last made a reservation at Orlando’s Kitchen for November 17, 1995, 6:30 PM EST, for his first anniversary dinner with his wife!” She pulled out a photograph to prove it, showing a younger Falthin and an African-American woman with short hair, Molly’s mother Kelly-Ann Xayansa (nee Ingerman).

The rest of the newspaper filed out of the back rooms, and finally, a wheezing Mr. Orlando slowly arrived too. “That one…” he huffed, pointing a shaking finger at Hannah, “is a _maniac_.”

“I got the job done, didn’t I?” Hannah asked impertinently.

“That you did!” Querida confirmed. “See, Ms. Broker! You got the wrong guy!”

“Yeah, that’d be _me_ .” We all turned to see the man Hannah had namedropped, a chubby guy with pink skin and short brown hair. “I was kind of a douche in college and I did the things she said Xayansa did. Whatever consequences I get for it, I’ll accept them. But I gotta ask, Cecily, why’d you say it was Xayansa? Surely my face isn’t _that_ forgettable.”

“I couldn’t remember you, okay?” Cecily snapped hastily, as the patrons of the began to stare.

“She said that a little too fast,” I whispered to Molly. “Accuse her of lying.”

“ _You_ do it,” she retorted.

I gulped at the image. “I’m too scared of her. What if she gets mad?”

“You took on that gunman just fine!”

“I didn’t have to _talk_ to him that much!”

Molly sighed. “Fine, _I’ll_ confront her.” She coughed. “Oh, Ms. Broker? I think there’s a _deeper_ reason why you tried to get my father fired.”

Broker paled. “And what makes you say _that?_ ”

“Because I’m a girl who was born in the digital age, and what you did was a prime example of cancel culture. You exploited the massive amounts of hype generated by a movement for social change to remove a guy that you didn’t like from the public spotlight, all for some unimaginably _petty_ reason, and counted on your movement becoming popular enough to gain enough speed to get him fired. So tell me, why do you dislike my father enough to substitute him in your memory for your _actual_ harasser? Is it because he’s of Pacific Islander descent?”

“Fuck _you_ for playing the race card, you little nosy _bitch!_ ” Broker roared, lunging at her. Querida and I got in her way, while Johnny and Cooper grabbed her hands. “Of _course_ it wasn’t because of his race! I hate his fucking stupid _voice!_ And I don’t understand why _anyone_ would ever give him the time of day!”

Suddenly, her eyes widened, which was when Johnny and Cooper decided to let go of her. She ended up falling to the floor, and when she got up, Mr. Orlando was glaring at her.

“You lied so I wouldn’t do an interview that might help my business,” was all he said. _“Get. OUT.”_ Broker nodded weakly, then scurried off as fast as her heels would let her, which wasn’t very fast at all. The two college students shrugged, then took off after her.

“I _think_ we should add her to the ban list, boss,” Querida said finally.

“We will,” Mr. Orlando affirmed. “And tell Mr. Xayansa that the interview is back on.”

The store cheered. “Whoo!” Prairie exclaimed. “We did it, guys! We’ve got the September issue in the _bag_ now!”

“Great job, everyone!” Molly added. “Say, Doug, Querida? Can I talk to you in private?” Her eyes briefly flashed green, followed by an unfamiliar flash of...beige?

Querida and I exchanged a look, then we nodded and I stopped time. “Wow, you want a threesome already?” I asked, surprised. “You only knew about this since this afternoon. What gives?”

“Hey, we had a victory, so I’m in the mood for some _serious_ victory sex,” Molly shrugged. “And since Querida’s here, I figured, why not?”

I shrugged. “I’m convinced.”

“Me too,” Querida added. She took off her apron, shirt, and bra, her pale breasts hanging out for the three of us to see. “ _Phew!_ It’s nice to get out of this stuffy apron for a little bit.” She sat on the floor, then kicked off her shoes and peeled off her white ankle socks, revealing her sweaty feet. “Hope you don’t mind the smell, babe,” she purred, winking at me.

“You know, Doug worshipped _my_ feet today too,” Molly said, disrobing as well. “Maybe I could...do it to you?”

“Sure! Boy or girl, at this point I just want someone pampering my sore feet at all!” Querida got on an unoccupied chair. “Lick up, darling! Oh, and Doug, why don’t you fuck her while she’s doing that?”

I looked at Molly’s vagina. “I can manage that,” I said, blushing.

Querida smirked. “Oh, and Molly? Your pedicure’s pretty cute too.”

“Thanks,” Molly said, flexing her dark red-painted toes as she lay on her back and scooted under Querida’s feet. “I like yours, too.”

“You’re gonna like how it tastes even better,” Querida grinned as I lined up with Molly’s vagina and slowly pushed into her.

  
“I was thinking about what color I might do my nails next,” Molly added, groaning with pleasure. “ _ Mmmm _ ...At first I was thinking I might do a lighter red, but I’m wearing red right now.”

“Red’s a _classic_ , but like all classics, it’s overdone,” Querida added. She slowly planted her feet on Molly’s face, and Molly began to lick them. “Ohhh...thanks, Molly,” she sighed, cheeks tinging a heavy shade of reddish-pink. She had a thought. “What about _you_ , honey? You’re the artist, after all.”

“Well, it _does_ kind of depend on what colors she has available, and whether she plans to replace her pedicure as well as her manicure,” I remarked, slowly thrusting into Molly’s depths. “I would say black, dark gray, a sort of light cinnamon-y brown, eraser pink, light blue/azure, white, light gray, and yellow-orange would work best given your skin tone.”

“Hm...light blue sounds pretty good,” Molly said. “Thanks, babe.”

“You’re welcome!” I pushed a little further in, and she moaned happily.

“And what about me?” Querida asked curiously.

“For you, I would say black, white, a sort of grayish sky blue, tulip purple, cerulean, a really dark blue, red, and beige. Your skin tone actually works with most colors.”

“Aw, thanks! For that, you get to fuck my butt once you’re done with Molly,” Querida smiled. “I can do cerulean next. Ooh, ooh, I have cerulean lipstick! It’d look _amazing!_ ” She paused. “And what about _your_ nails, Doug? Have you ever been curious about what _you_ might look like with some extra color?”

I blushed. “U-uh...d-dark violet, pink, light pink, purple, s-cyan, black, white, and g-green.”

Querida squealed. “Oh my _god_ , that’d look so _adorable!_ Molly, you _gotta_ see Doug’s feet, they’re so _cute!_ And his butt!” Querida looked at me lecherously; Orlando should’ve been more afraid of his own employee than Hannah. “Doug, as soon as we deal with that thing you call a father, we’re sending you to the nail salon!”

Molly giggled from underneath Querida’s feet, and I gave up trying to speak up. Eight down, fifty-five to go.

* * *

Forty minutes later, I was getting off the school bus. “I wasn’t expecting those two to spend the rest of that time thinking up more colors for me to…”

_Hey, there’s nothing wrong with boys wearing nail polish,_ DTL replied. _Oh, and while I can’t tell you my exact skin tone, which is [bunch of static], I_ can _tell you what nail polish colors look good on me._

“And what would those be?” I asked.

_Well, a lot of them do, but the ones I think look best are a sort of dull, darkish blue-purple, green, purple (my fave color, BTW), a redder shade of purple, a sort of key lime pie green, black, white, sky blue, and I have a shade of orange that matches my eyes, like, almost perfectly but is a little bit redder. The orange one’s my favorite, so I only wear it on special occasions, like, dances and weddings and stuff._

I nodded. “Well, when I finally see your feet, I’ll make sure to compliment them before anyone else.”

She laughed. _Alright, sweetie. Oh, and MC? You did a very good thing for Molly. I’m proud of you._ I smiled, and then my mind went silent.

I opened the door, then went inside. As I walked upstairs, I saw _him_ in _his_ “office”, looking stupefied. Against my better judgement, I went inside. “What happened?” I asked.

He looked at me. “You were...Right. Ms. Broker _was_ Lying, and she ended up Getting Fired from her Job. And her _Actual_ harasser was Fired too.” He sat there, looking stupid. “I can’t Believe it…”

I shrugged, then left for my room.

Once inside my room, Cataluka addressed me. “Excellent work today, Chosen. You have fought for truth and justice.”

“The American way?”

She chuckled. “The _universal_ way, my pupil. However, I must inform you that your troubles with Ms. Broker might not be over. My love Yue has identified her as a probable Slugus, and she told me it is of utmost importance that you know this fact.”

“Slugus?”

“Allies of the Malevolence. Sluguschov are Incurables that _want_ Paskuda to continue existing, for it has promised them fame, fortune, and vengeance if they help it stop our efforts to destroy it. Among humans, Sluguschov are the only ones besides you, your harem, and the Kolega, your human allies, who are allowed to know the truth about the universe. If all of humanity was made aware, like we have done for every other sentient species, the Malevolence would gain an even _stronger_ foothold on their minds.”

“So you think she’ll be back?”

“She will if she wants to get back in Paskuda’s good graces. Have we mentioned how absurdly _petty_ that thing is?”

* * *

_Elsewhere, the Malevolence snarled at Broker in her apartment. “Please, my liege,” Broker cried. “Make it so I’m rehired! Or at the very least make it easier for me to get a new job!”_

**_No,_ ** _the force replied angrily._ **_You somehow managed to_ ** **fuck up** **_a perfectly reasonable and unimaginably_ ** **simple** **_plan. You prevented Xayansa’s progeny from uncovering the truth about you, and that allowed her to continue her transition into the Magnum Harem unimpeded, AND Sobsuin now has a confident boost. While I_ ** **do** **_appreciate how much suffering the latter girl will now inevitably cause her classmates and girlfriend with her inflated ego, it just isn’t what I_ ** **wanted** **_from today._ **

**_I promised you fame and fortune if you obeyed me...and you will certainly get_ ** **fame** **_, at the very least, for there’s no such thing as bad publicity, Cecily. Perhaps...just perhaps...there will be some conservative lout with impressive political power who sympathizes with you._ ** _It sighed._ **_But good luck finding such people in Delaware. I still can’t imagine why you didn’t just see the Chosen and accuse him of lying. People_ ** **love** **_to make fun of freaks of nature like him…_ **

_And then it left, leaving Broker with her thoughts._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If someone suffers as a result of one’s actions, the Malevolence will allow it. It’s kind of stupid that way. Scratch that; it is stupid.
> 
> Molly has protected the integrity of the truth and Doug has protected her emotions. Now what? Stay tuned to find out…
> 
> And please give me your lovely reviews! I’ll respond like so:
> 
> Person: Does Doug even need a harem?
> 
> Yes.

**Author's Note:**

> https://strangestharemficevah.blogspot.com/2018/06/the-strangest-harem-fic-evah-begins.html
> 
> Welcome to The Strangest Harem Fic Evah! This harem genre erotica is a parody of harem genre erotica that serves to make the reason why so many girls want one guy plot-relevant.
> 
> Gwen is intersex, not transgender, BTW. More in part two.
> 
> So what’s going to happen next? Stay tuned to find out…
> 
> And please give me your lovely reviews! I’ll respond like so:
> 
> Person: Why is this so weird?
> 
> Because I can.


End file.
